The Lonely Sunflower (Hetalia Russia Story)
by pinkpoland
Summary: This is a story about the strong country, Russia. Behind his always cheerful smile, hides a broken country just waiting to be accepted by others. His dreams of having friends and a loving family seem impossible to reach. Will Russia ever fulfill his dreams, or will he be haunted by his suffering past forever?
1. Prologue

The cold breeze was the first thing Russia felt when he awoke. He had left the window open, which probably caused his never ending chills throughout the night. Sluggishly, he grabbed his tan coat and slipped it on, along with his everyday white scarf. It was very rare to see Russia without his scarf.

After getting into proper clothing, he walked downstairs to where the Baltic Nations; Lithuania, Estonia, Latvia, were already fixing him a plate of breakfast. Smiling at their nervous faces, he sat down and ate. He tried to ignore the fact that they were shaking as they ate alongside him. Why do they tremble? Why do they refuse to look him in the eye?

Finishing his meal, he set off to England for the usual Allies meeting. He sat at his usual seat and watched the usual start of the meeting which always ended up in chaos. First with America leading it. Then with England disagreeing with everything. Which leads to France getting involved and sparking up a fight with England. As they fight, China would sit idly by complaining continuously how they never get anything done. As this all unfolds, Russia is always there and just there. He sits and watches, smiling whenever someone gives a quick glance at him. Every now and then he will make a remark on something, but at the most he will keep quiet.

And then the meeting ends, getting nothing done. England is always the first to leave and then is followed by America and France. China often waits for Russia to leave since he is usually the very last to exit the room. Russia will walk with China out of the meeting hall, enjoying his company. However, he knows that China is not comfortable near Russia. Again, he ignores this and continues to smile.

After the meeting, Russia goes back to his house and is greeted by the Baltics. Lithuania will report to him all the chores they had done, Latvia will accidentally blurt out something that was made to be kept a secret, and Estonia will hurriedly try to cover up what his fellow nation said. Russia would smile at them and if needed give them proper punishment. Leaving the shaking Baltics back to their work, Russia will retire into his own room. There he would hang up his coat and quietly think about that day's events.

When night came, he would walk around the house, observing the Baltics' work and eat the food Lithuania had prepared for them. After the uneasy dinner, Russia would dismiss the Baltics back to their rooms or chores. On his own, Russia would return back to his bedroom and grab one of his many vodka bottles. After drinking, he did not know what happened next, for whenever he woke up the next morning; memory of the previous night was always a blur.

And from there his day starts again. From the nervous Baltics' to the rowdy meeting and to drinking alone in his room. A typical day, for Ivan Braginsky.

* * *

 **A/N: Okay, so I've decided to move this story onto here (was originally writing it on Wattpad) because I just found out how to post stories on here.**

 **Aha! Yeah, so lame.**

 **Anyways, I hope you enjoy my stories and I'm currently working on a Hetalia Zombie Apocalypse AU one which will be up shortly~**

 **Enjoy!**


	2. One Day, We'll Leave

"G-Good morning, Mr. Russia. I am hoping you slept well." Lithuania greeted as Russia sat down at the breakfast table. Latvia and Estonia were already seated, keeping their heads down, not to look Russia in the eye.

"Da, I had comfortable night." Russia said smiling. He began to eat the food Lithuania prepared. The other Baltics did the same, Latvia shaking as he did. Russia noticed the agitated silence and tried to relieve the tension.

"I am much enjoying your meal, Lithuania.." Russia said smiling. Lithuania started to sweat as he felt Russia's gaze on him. He was about to thank him but a loud crash interrupted him. All eyes turned to Latvia, who was frantically picking up his shattered plate.

"I-I-I'm sorry, Mr. Russia." Latvia apologized. He rushed to pick up the broken pieces, ignoring the little cuts on his fingers.

"You must be stopping this," Russia said looking at him, "This is the fifth plate broken." Latvia started to shake uncontrollably.

"P-P-Please do n-not b-be angry, sir." He stuttered. "I-I-I did not do it o-on p-purpose."

"You are being much of disobedience. Will I be needing to punish you?" Russia stared down at him, watching Latvia tremble.

"N-N-No, please." Latvia begged not wanting to be hit again. "I-I will not do it again. I understand n-now." Russia continued to stare at the helpless nation.

 _Why was he so scared? Did I say something bad?_

Estonia silently glared at Russia, hating him for being so abusive. Lithuania sat quietly, praying that Mr. Russia wouldn't punish Latvia. The Baltics all feared Russia. Whenever they made a mistake or angered Russia, he would punish them. Their punishment varied, depending on how bad they "disobeyed". Sometimes they would get a slap in the face or get beat up until Russia believed they had enough.

Normal people would see this as abuse and cruel. However, Russia sees it as helping them learn.

"M-Mr. Russia," Lithuania interrupted turning Russia's attention on him, "M-Mr. England had called. H-He said t-that he w-wanted to meet with you t-today at his home." Russia smiled.

"Thank you for telling me of this." Russia exclaimed beaming at Lithuania. "I will be going now to see him." He bid goodbye to his servants and exited the dining room. When the Baltics heard the front doors shut, Estonia cussed in his own language.

"I hate him so much, that bastard." He muttered struggling to keep his voice steady from his overflowing anger. "He thinks it is alright to hurt us for little accidents. Some day, I am going to leave this place. We all are. We will be free from that monster and won't ever worry about him again." Latvia gave a nervous nod in agreement.

"I know Estonia," Lithuania said calmly, "Mr. Russia is very mean and cruel. But, it is impossible to leave this place. He will keep us here forever. He will never let us go." Estonia frowned and knelt down to help Latvia pick up the last pieces of the broken plate.

"If he won't let us leave, we will force him to let us go."

Lithuania gave him a we-can-only-wish smile and retired from the room to do his daily chores. He often heard Estonia give that "We'll be free" speech about escaping Russia, but something about that morning's talk seemed like it was actually going to happen...very soon.


	3. The Secret Meeting

"God, that guy is such a psychopath!"

"He tried to force me to join him by threatening me, that wanker. "

"Now, now Russia isn't always like zhat...but he is really freaky."

"He give me bad feelng-aru. Plus, he is always mean."

The Allies had secretly called on a meeting with each other to talk about Russia. This all began after the countries had started sharing stories on how Russia acted towards them, beginning with America of course.

"Once, the dude even held a knife up to my throat when I refused." America said recalling the event. "Sure he wouldn't kill me, but that was just over the line, man." He shook his head and crossed his arms. Pushing up on his glasses, he turned to England. "He needs to be stopped."

"For once, I agree with you." England said, turning a slight shade of pink. "What he is doing is not right. If this continues, he will end up hurting someone, maybe even one of us." The others nodded. The question that was set on their minds were, how do they stop Russia? Do we just go up and tell him he's cruel and needs to quit?

"Well how do we tell zhe guy?" France spoke out into the uneasy silence. "He might get mad and end up trying to hurt us. I definately don't want him to hurt me... My face is to-"

"We aren't here to talk about your stupid face!" England interrupted. "We need to find out how we can possibly confront Russia about this. If we go through with telling him, we will have to risk getting seriously hurt or worse..." He trailed off remembering how once Russia had attempted to beat him with his pipe when he refused to something he asked. The countries all shuddered in unison as memories of Russia flooded their mind.

"I have idea-aru." China exclaimed. All attention turned to him as he began to lay out the plan. France, England, and America gave nods and an occasional "yes" as they listened. The plan was perfect. When China finished telling the plan, fear settle over them.

"We need someone to be alone with Russia and tell him what we think-aru." China concluded. "And if anything happens-aru, then our plan will take action. Now, which one of you will do it?" Everyone made in outburst cry.

"What do you mean 'which one of us'?! This is your plan, you be the one!" England shouted.

"Oui, I agree with Angleterre." France proclaimed. "You do it. I am not putting myself in danger." The frog and black sheep threw excuse after excuse on how they couldn't do it. Poor China kept his head down shouted back, trying to avoid being the one to confront Russia. That's when, America took the stand.

"Alright, I'll do it." He said raising his hand. "I am the hero after all. I'll be the one to talk to him and if he tries to hurt me, so be it-"

"No, you will not do it." England shouted staring at America with a bewildered look. "You will not be getting hurt, I will not allow it."

"Then it's settled-aru. England will be the one to talk to Russia." And with that, England was incharge of speaking with Russia. Eyes wide with terror, he tried persuading someone else to take his place. But it was already decided. He was going to be the one.

As their secret meeting ended, the other countries patted England on the back as they departed. Believing he had just dug his own grave, England hung his head in defeat. He was going to die, and he knew it.

 _Damn, I should have let America do it._


	4. We Need To Talk

England paced nervously around the room. Frequently checking his watch, he waited anxiously for Russia's arrival. He silently cursed the other Allies for making him have this role.

 _Why couldn't China do it?! It's his bloody plan!_

Cussing quietly under his breath, he shot angry glances at the cracked open kitchen door. His fear grew more and more the longer he waited. What was he going to say? How was he going to start talking? What if Russia was already in a foul mood?

England thought back to when he spoke with Lithuania. The young Baltic's voice didn't sound fearful so that could mean that Russia was in a good mood... Right?

 _Knock Knock_

"Wh-Who is it?" England called out, walking over to the front door. He knew who it was, he didn't need them to answer.

"It's is me, Russia." Russia's innocent voice said from behind the door. He felt his hands getting clammy as he slowly unlocked and opened the door. Russia's big figure stood smiling down at him. "Privyet, England~"

"G-Good afternoon, Russia." England greeted, trying to keep his voice steady. "Please, come in. I have made some tea for us." Stepping aside, England watched Russia stroll into his house and into the dining room. Trying to keep his legs from shaking, England followed his guest, keeping a safe distance between them. Russia took the seat right across from England and grinned.

"This is very nice of you to invite me over." Russia said watching England pour them cups of tea.

 _Keep calm, Arthur, he just arrived. He does not know yet. There is no need to be afraid_.

"Are you okay? Your hands are doing a lot of the trembling."

England jumped slightly. "Oh, I am fine. Just a little cold, that is all." England lied forcing a smile. Russia looked around.

"I am surprised you are cold, your home is much warm, compared to my house." England nodded and pushed Russia's teacup over to him. Russia took the warm cup into his cold hands and beamed. He loved the warmth of the glass surface.

"So," Russia said when England did not speak, "What is it you were wanting to meet with me about?" He broke out in a cold sweat.

"W-Well, ehem, Russia," England began, finding it hard to speak, "I wanted to speak to you about...well...you." He bit his tongue. Did he word that right? Was this a good way to start off? Russia tilted his head.

"What are you meaning?" Russia asked in a confused voice. He gently lifted up his tea cup and sipped the warm, flavoured water.

"What I mean is.." England started to trail off. When he saw Russia's intense stare, he blurted out everything that was on his mind. "You're scary! You always use violence to get what you want! You nearly beat me with that bloody pipe of yours. You need to stop, Russia. People are scared of you. If you keep threatening people to become one with you, you are going to start another bloody world war. Okay. I said it. That is why I am meeting with you. You need to stop what you are doing, Russia. It is not right." When he finished, he felt all the color drain from his face. Not removing the cup from his mouth, Russia stared at England, taking in every word he had said.

"Oh," Russia said after a long, intimidating silence. He set down his cup, "Is that it?" Russia's four worded answer made England's legs tremble.

 _Oh god, is he mad? I can't tell. He's not saying anything. Damn._

"Yes," England answered, clearing his throat, "That is what I wanted to tell you." Silence. Complete silence. England stared at Russia, trying not to show his fear, and Russia stared back, giving his usual innocent smile. A single bead of sweat slid down the side of England's face, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

After what seemed like a hundred hours, Russia stood up. Stiffening, England watched him walk around the table and suddenly appear a couple inches away from him. The tall country cast a haunting shadow over his poor ally, engulfing him in a faint darkness.

"Those are not nice words, England." Russia said calmly. "I am not understanding anything you are saying. How am I cruel? I am not thinking you are not knowing what your talking about." A dangerous aura drifted from Russia, causing England to struggle out of his seat.

"That does not make me very happy." Russia said in a low voice. He took a step closer to England till there was no space in between them. Feeling his blood turn cold, England shot up and hurriedly back away. With a quick, short whistle he made the signal.

America, France, and China all came out from the kitchen and stood by England's side. They all stared up at him, all putting on a serious face. Russia looked at his former allies in confusion.

 _Why are they looking at me like that? What did I do?_


	5. Hate Me?

"Huh? I am not of the understanding. What are you all doing here?"

Russia stared at his fellow allies in complete confusion. At first, he thought he was having a friendly chat with England, but now he was being stood up by his "friends".

The Allies all stood by each other's side, staring up at the large nation with a look of seriousness and fear. They had a feeling Russia would pull one of his "punishment" tricks on them. None of them wanted to get hurt, nor hurt him. But how could they tell him such news... without anyone being harmed? This is Russia after all.

"We wanted to confront you, man." America said, stepping forward. "Dude, you may deny it but it's true. You have issues." Russia frowned. America continued. "You hurt people! You nearly blew off my head when i disagreed to become one with you! That's wrong, man. Plus, you're scaring your own people. They're all fearful of their own country. You gotta cool down, bro. Violence isn't always the answer, you know." England stared at America with a look of surprise.

 _Did those strong words really come out of that little bugger's mouth? For once, he's helping assess a situation correctly and without any of his narcissist none sense._

Russia gave the american an innocent stare. His voice was soft and quiet.

"You are hating me?"

None of the nations spoke. How could they answer that question? If this wasn't a serious situation, America would've blurted out a lame joke but now wasn't the time. Russia noticed their hesitation. A look of faint hurt crossed his face, but was immediately replaced by anger.

"You are hating me." He looked at the others. France stepped forward next.

"Non, mon ami. We are not hating you." He spoke in a shaky voice, to England's surprise. "We are trying to help you." Russia stiffened.

"Helping me? There is nothing wrong with me." France gave a nervous chuckle.

"Russia, please. Listen to us." France held up his hands in a calming manner. "You hurt people. I know you are aware of that. You cannot do this anymore. You must stop." Russia shook his head.

"Nyet. I am not doing anything of the wrongness." Russia glared. "You should not be saying that to me."

"Dude! Just stop already." America shouted, turning cold when Russia's attention turned towards him. "You're cruel and mean and just creep the hell out of everyone! Just stop with the violence and abuse, man. And don't threaten me to do anything." This comment caused an outburst of agreeing statements from the others.

"Oui, I would never agree if I had a gun held up to my head!"

" Yes, for once I agree with America. Stop it with the threats and bloody 'magical pipes'."

"Aiyah, for once we agree with something-aru. Russia, you too mean. Stop being such a bully-aru."

His fellow allies threw, what he believed, insult after insult at him, and all Russia did was stare and listen. He did not believe a word they were saying. Him a bully? Him being cruel? That did not seem right... did it?

 _I'm not being mean... I am just doing what it right... If they are of disobedience, I must punish... If they do not cooperate, I must use force... That is the right thing to do..._

The Allies' complaints and opinions seemed to be endless. When one person stated themselves, another person added on. Their voices surrounded Russia, engulfing him. None of them realized his frightened breathing and horrified stare. Silently, he begged for them all to stop. He wanted to get out of here. He wanted to go back home. He did not want to be hurt anymore. Why did they all hate him? Why are they saying these things? What had he done wrong? What's...happening?

"Sh-Shut up.." He whispered. No one heard him. Suddenly, overwhelmed with the current situation, he raised his hand and swiped in front of him, letting out a scream, "Stop!"

What happened next, all came out in a daze. A sudden cry rang out in the room, causing everyone to silence at once. Something... or someone had made contact with Russia's blow when he ordered everyone to cease speaking. Looking down, he saw the shaking body of China, who held a trembling hand to his bleeding cheek. All standing nations stared at Russia in shock and fear. He just hit China. No one ever hit China.

Russia stared at China and then back at his hand, which was still tingling from hitting his elder country. No one spoke. France dropped to his knees and helped China up. China leaned against France, still dazed from the sudden blow.

"Ch-China?" Russia managed to say. China flinched at his voice and gave him a glare. The look he gave Russia was pure hate. Russia's heart dropped. China was the only person he considered to be a true friend. He was the only one who didn't shudder at his presence. He was the only one who managed to hold a real, calm conversation with him. And now that one person was giving him a look of dislike, trembling at the sight of him. Now, Russia felt completely alone.

Before anyone could say anything, Russia stormed out of the room and out of the building. The Allies stood in uneasy silence, all deciphering what happened. China, still holding a trembling hand to his throbbing cheek, watched Russia go.

 _This plan did not go well, aru. Did we make it worse for us... or for Russia?_


	6. Fear Me?

"L-Lithuania?" Latvia walked up to his fellow Baltic, arms full with freshly cleaned plates. "I am needing help in putting these away." His trembling hands made the the plates clatter together. Smiling, Lithuania leaned over and relieved the young Baltic from the weight of the plates.

"Don't worry, Latvia." He said softly. "I will put these away. We can't risk you breaking another one of Mr. Russia's plates." Latvia gave him a shaky smile. "Y-Yes, thank you, Lithuania."

The Baltics were at their normal routine of chores and cleaning up Mr. Russia's house. Lithuania was handling the main hall, Latvia with the kitchen and dining room, and Estonia with the library and guest rooms (it's not like many guests come over, but good to keep it clean just in case).

"I just swept the floors inside the library." Estonia entered the main hall, looking worn down. In his hand was a battered broomstick, in the other was a simple book.

"What book is that, Estonia?" Lithuania questioned, seeing the novel. "Mr. Russia will be very angry if he sees you reading his books without permission!" Estonia waved the book in his hand dismissively.

"I don't care about him or what he says." A tone of hatred in his voice. "Besides, this book holds different locations on where people like to visit. I was thinking, when we leave this place, we can escape to somewhere nice and... safe."

" _If_ we manage to leave.." Lithuania said softly, shifting his hold on the plates. Estonia walked up to the two nations.

"We _will_ leave this place and we _will_ be free from Russia."

 _Slam_

The Baltics' little chat was disrupted by the loud slamming of the front door. Russia stormed in, obviously not in a good mood. The plates in Lithuania's hands clattered together as his shaking arms struggled to keep them from moving. Russia stopped right in the middle of the main hall, standing before the three Baltic nations. The three nations stared at the larger nation in silence. Lithuania froze where he stood.

 _Oh no... He doesn't look happy, yet he doesn't look mad... What's going to happen to us?_

"W-Welcome back, Mr. Russia." Lithuania greeted softly. Russia frowned at his greeting, sending a chill down his spine. Usually, Russia would give him a smile in return, however there was no sign of that normal smiile anywhere on his face.

"Estonia," Russia said softly walking up to the blonde nation, "why are you having my book in your hands?" Estonia felt his blood turn to ice. Standing tall, he took a shaky step towards the larger nation.

"I was looking at it, R-Russia..." He spoke, keeping the fear hidden from his voice. "Is something wrong with that?"

"Da," Russia replied taking a step forward, "there is much wrongness in that. You are needing to be asking me permission before touching my belongings... You have been much of the disobedience." Estonia would usually start trembling now, however he did not. Instead, he glared up at Russia, putting his hands to his hips.

"I am? I'm not sure I understand you, Russia." Estonia retorted. "What are you going to do, huh? _Punish_ me?" Russia blinked, noticing the change of tone in his voice. That wasn't the silent, frightened Estonia he knew.

"Da, of course. You are needing to be taught a lesson." He looked at Estonia with a look of pure innocence. Lithuania stared in fright. Something was going to happen. One of them will say something effective against the other and the one getting harmed will be them. There's no other possibility.

Then it happened. Estonia had defied all the logics of Russia's house.

It happened so quick, yet so much happened in that little amount of time. Before he realised it, Lithuania was looking down at Russia. Down. He was clutching his face, whimpering very softly. Estonia stood, fist still made and in midair. His face showed no regret in what he had just done. In all honesty, he felt proud of his action. Lithuania and Latvia stared in shock and fear.

"E-Estonia!" Lithuania hissed feeling chills crawl down his spine. "Why did you hit Russia?!" He gave him a he's-going-to-kill-us-now look, glancing at Russia, who remained covering his face, softly wincing.

"He deserves it, for treating us like... like shit!" Estonia shouted glaring at Russia. He was about to say what else he'd been meaning to yell at the large nation, but was soon hushed when Russia began to stand back on his feet. Once again, he towered over the Baltics, but now his cheerful face was replaced by a frown. Blood trickled from his mouth, a result from Estonia's punch. Estonia gulped, feeling his old sense of fear creep back.

Russia took a step forward. Lithuania shuddered.

 _Oh god, Estonia, what have you done...?_

Another step towards Estonia.

 _You're dead, Eduard._

Russia was a foot away from Estonia. The Baltic glared up at him, but secretly screaming inside. Latvia was trembling for Estonia, as if he was the one about to get punished. Lithuania watched, desperately wishing some miracle would happen so no one would get hurt. As he silently wished for something to happen, something did. Something no one was expecting. Another unexpected action.

Instead of being met with a cold, metal pipe to the head, Estonia felt two hands roughly push him aside as a pair of heavy footsteps ran out of the hallway and up the stairs. The Baltics were left in a Russia empty room, completely confused. For once they had been of disobedience, but received no punishment. None of them knew the expression Russia had on his face as he left. Their eyes were shut tight, expecting to hear the sound of pain and cries of one of their fellow nations. To their ears fortune, they heard none of that. Only the sound of the larger nation's footsteps fading away as he distanced himself from the three.

"What..." Lithuania broke the silence. He stared after Russia, still comprehending what happened. "He didn't... hurt us."

"That felt good." Estonia scoffed, rubbing his hand. A smirk crawled on his face. "It was time he felt the taste of his own medicine." He turned to Lithuania and the shaking Latvia, who remained silent.

"Toris," He spoke strongly, "Raivis, we're leaving here. Tomorrow morning. We are leaving this damned place. We'll be free... Are you with me?"

Latvia answered with a shaky nod, a smile crawling on his lips.

Estonia looked at Lithuania, "Toris?"

Lithuania looked over at the door Russia exited. Something didn't feel right, but he wasn't going to just throw away a pass to freedom. Putting on a smile, he nodded.

"Yes, I'm in." He said cheerfully. As he answered, he couldn't help but feel a slight dread in his heart. Something wasn't right. But what was it?

What was making this celebratory news... not so happy?


	7. What's Wrong With Me?

_Monster_

 _Scary_

 _Heartless_

 _Hate_

Words like these swarmed around Russia's mind as he made his way up his hollow stairs and into his freezing bedroom. His hands trembled as he held an arm above his face, covering his eyes. Everything moved about him in a blur. Time seemed to slow as he rushed through the halls and into his solitude. The sound of his footsteps and own breathing echoed in his ears. After about what seemed like years, he reached his bedroom door and stumbled inside. Right when he shut his door, separating himself from the reality outside, he broke down.

He slid down the wall, tears streaming down his face. Everything around him seemed to shatter, his own body felt like it was breaking. The Russian lifted his knees to his chest, hugging them. Resting his chin on his knees, Russia stared at the empty space before him, vision blurring from his excessive amount of tears.

 _What are they meaning? What am I doing wrong? I am not understanding. They say I am mean, but what I see is me doing what's right. If they are of disobedience, I have to punish. That is the only way for them to learn... That is how I learned. When I wasn't doing anything of the rightness, my bosses used punishment to teach me on what not to do. How else am I supposed to teach them? What other way is there?_

A stinging feeling could be felt at his trembling lips. Gingerly, he touched the corner of his mouth where blood still flowed. That punch Estonia threw at him was all held in feelings and hate he resented Russia for. All that anger and fear packed into one punch. Not once has Russia ever felt a pain such as this. Sure, he'd been in wars and heavily wounded, but not once had he _cried_ or endured something as effective such as this single punch. Maybe it was because of what had happened earlier on, or maybe it was because of how it all happened. The true reason was still a haze in his mind.

 _They are hating me... everyone is hating me. Why is that? What am I doing wrong? Am I needing punishment now? Am I doing wrong, but I think I am doing right? Nyet. I am not doing anything wrong, I am the one who is doing the rightness... right? But, then why would there be a majority of people doing the wrong and me only doing what is right. This is not making any sense. I am much of the confusion..._

Russia winced at the stabbing feeling in his heart and stomach. The more he thought, the more it hurt. He silently prayed for it all to stop, for everything to stop closing in on him. The constant question of "why?" echoed through his head. Ten minutes passed by and Russia remained curled up against his door. Another ten minutes crept by yet the conflicted, broken Russian continued to tremble on the floor. Oh how he wished for someone to be there with him. For someone to just stand by his side. He didn't care if they liked him or not, or if they cared about his problems, he just wanted another being in his presence.

 _I hate this feeling... I hate everyone hating me... Why? That is all I ask, why? What am I doing wrong? If they are of disobedience, I must punish. If they refuse, I use force. That is the correct way of dealing with what happens. That is what is right... but if it is, why is everyone saying it is wrong?_

Letting out a whimper, Russia slowly stretched out his legs. Dully, he pushed himself back onto his feet, unintentionally beginning to slouch. Tears still streamed down his face yet his face remained emotionless as ever. His now worn-out eyes scanned the room lazily for the one thing that he knew could soothe his pain. His eyes locked on the half empty bottle on his desk. Its clear contents glistening from the afternoon's setting sun. As if in a trance, Russia dragged his feet along the floorboard towards the single bottle of vodka. Vodka. His best friend. The only thing that could take him away from his thoughts and pain. Unscrewing the top, he lifted the opening of the bottle to his lips. Russia grimaced as its transparent contents slipped down his throat. Almost immediately he felt his mind become cloudy. A bitter smile crawled on his lips as he stumbled over to his bed, vodka swinging by his side.

 _I am not liking this feeling... I have been feeling these emotions for all my life. What are these emotions called? Rejection? Loneliness? Hurt? Empty? Confusion? Fear? Despair? These constant feelings... I want to feel something else. I don't want to feel those emotions anymore. They hurt. They hurt a lot. But what else is there to feel? I have no experience of anything else that's not related to my everyday feelings... I wonder... is there such a feeling that warms your heart? That makes you feel the opposite of depressed? That makes all these other negative feelings go away? Is there such a feeling?_

Russia leaned over and rested his head against his old pillow. The vodka was already causing his vision to blur along with his conscious fading in and out.

 _Is there... such a feeling... If it does exists, I want to find it. I want to experience something like that. Something that warms my freezing heart. I want to believe such an emotion exists, but alas it seems as if its just a dream... a dream that seems too unrealistic to come true..._


	8. Once Again

A bright light was the first thing he saw the next morning. It wasn't until the Russian opened up his heavy eyes when he realised the bright light was the early day's sun. Although the sun's rays shone bright in his face, it did not provide warmth. Just an empty light, only providing fake hope. The vodka bottle laid on the floor, empty. What had happened the previous night? Why did his eyes feel so weak and puffy? Why was there dry blood at the corner of his mouth? These questions revolved around his head before all memory of the day prior came back to his mind.

 _Oh.. Da, I remember now._

He remembered quite clearly what happened. However, last night's tender and hurt feelings were long gone. Mornings were always the time for Russia to regain his composure and reassurance. He always took that time to reassure himself that what he was doing was right and that everything was going to be okay. All doubt from the previous night would vanish... at least, that's what he thought.

After a few minutes on contemplating his thoughts, Russia got up from his bed and walked towards his door. Adjusting his white scarf so it partially covered up the bruise on his mouth, he slowly opened up his bedroom door. Once again, he was greeted by the every day sound in his large house. Nothing. That's all that could be heard. Nothing. Sighing, Russia exited his bedroom and began his journey down the stairs to where he would be greeted by Lithuania and shown to breakfast. However, this did not happen. No Baltic was there to greet him at the stairs. No delicious aroma could be smelt wafting through the air. Where was every-

 _Thud_

A soft sound of an object dropping could be heard near the front door. The sound was later followed by the hissing whispers of someone who was obviously anxious. Curious, Russia followed the sound and found himself staring at the three Baltics huddled together near the front doors. They each carried a small backpack, obviously filled with personal belongings and such. The Baltics froze at the sight of the larger nation's presence, not one of them knowing what to do.

"What are you doing?" Russia questioned into the uneasy silence. No answer. He spoke again, "It is not nice to ignore someone when they are of asking question. What are you guys doing?" Latvia quickly hid behind Lithuania, trembling at the sound of Russia repeating his words. When Russia had to repeat, little Latvia knew something was going to happen. As expected, Estonia stepped forward.

"We are leaving you, Russia." He said harshly, forgetting all formalities of addressing his former boss. The words echoed in Russia's head.

 _We are leaving you, Russia._

"You will not be leaving." The Russian replied in a somewhat stern tone. This tone sent chills through the already trembling Latvia. Faith in their plan of finally being free seemed to disappear. Lithuania stood beside his fellow Baltics, trying to keep his legs from shaking. Russia spoke again, "No one will be leaving. You will be going back to your rooms now-

"No." Estonia interrupted his orders. Russia blinked, not expecting to be cut short. The Estonian narrowed his eyes. "No, we will not listening to your orders anymore. You can't tell us what to do." Russia tilted his head, stepping dangerously close.

"Estonia," He said as he approached the Baltics, "are you needing punishment?" Estonia let out a light laugh, causing a ripple of confusion through the surrounding nations. Suddenly, the blonde Baltic put a hand to his pocket, fingers wrapping around a black handle.

"Don't come any closer." He said, slightly pulling out what he hid in his pocket. "You are not going to hurt us anymore." Russia, not taking notice of his hand, took another step. In an instant, Estonia jerked up his hand and pointed a handgun straight at the Russian. Latvia whimpered at the sight of the gun, Lithuania tensed up. This was not in their plan they had discussed the previous night. Estonia never mentioned threatening Mr. Russia.

Russia stared wide eyed at the gun, not knowing how to react to it. Pure confusion was all he felt as he stared at the gun then back at Estonia. The look on the Estonian's face was of pure hatred and loathe.

"Estonia?" Russia said softly, "What are you doing?"

"What I should have done a long time ago." Estonia retorted, tightening grip on the gun. "All those times you punished us for no reason at all. All those times you hurt us. All those damn times. I should have done this sooner, and now... I actually have the chance." His finger rested upon the trigger, putting a slight pressure on it. Lithuania watched, conflicted on what was happening. Yes, he did not particularly like Russia, but he did want to hurt him. He didn't want anyone to get hurt.

"E-Estonia.." The Lithuanian spoke up. "We don't need to do that. C-Come on, let's just go..-"

"No!" Estonia shouted. His voice was strong and showed no hint of fear or second thoughts on his actions. "He deserves this! Look what he's done to us! He-"

Lithuania sighed. "I-I know but no one needs to get hurt right now. Let's just go, Eduard. H-He-"

Russia stared at the two arguing Baltics, not knowing what to do. He was quite surprised at himself for not fearing the sight of a gun being held at him. He was too busy trying to comprehend on what was happening or if this was real or not. Were the Baltics really planning to leave? Was he going to be alone agai-

 _Bang_

A loud bang ceased all arguments and chatter in the room. No one moved. Latvia shook violently behind Lithuania, neither one of them saying a thing. Estonia stood still, eyes emotionless, arm still raised. His hand on the gun shook slightly as it remained aimed at Russia. Russia's eyes widened.

The Russian slowly lowered his head and looked down at his body. A warm, sticky liquid could be felt growing at his side. Red began to appear on his tan coat, its colour spreading around the small tear in which the bullet passed through. Tears welled up in Russia's eyes at the sight. His hands trembled as he lightly placed it over the red blotch, seeing if this actually happened. It was real. He was shot. Estonia shot him.

The large nation opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a soft whimper. Estonia slowly lowered his raised arm and placed his gun back into his pocket. He merely stared at Russia, observing the nation. A few tears slid down Russia's face as he looked back at the Baltics. Latvia shut his eyes, not wanting to see what was before him. Lithuania stared shocked at Mr. Russia, mouth slightly agape. Estonia glared.

"I-I..." Russia's words came out broken and frightened. His eyes shown a clear look of fear and a child's confusion. His mouth began to tremble as he stumbled backwards. Without any more words, the large nation turned his back to the Baltics and staggered out of the room. The three nations listened to his footsteps die away and completely be silenced by the closing of a bedroom door.

"Let's go." Estonia said, breaking the silence. He adjusted his hold on his backpack and began to make his way towards the front door. Trying to stop his shaking, Latvia followed behind. Lithuania did not.

"T-Toris..? Aren't you coming?" Latvia questioned, turning back to see his fellow nation staring where Russia exited. He made no move to follow, or any type of movement to begin with. Estonia stopped in his steps and turned halfway to glance at Lithuania, "Are you coming, or are you staying? Latvia and I are going, whether you follow or not." He spoke in such a flinty tone, it was so unlike Estonia. Lithuania turned to his fellow Baltics and back to where Russia went, his inner conflicts shown clear on his face.

"Th-This isn't right..." Lithuania replied after a long pause. Before any of the other Baltics could say anything, the brunette ran out of the room, following where the injured nation fled.

"Latvia," Estonia said, turning his back to the house. He took the shaking nation's hand and began leading him out the door. "We're going. Lithuania chose to follow Mr. Russia, he's not coming with us." Latvia nodded, averting his gaze from Estonia.

And with that, the two Baltics took their first step out of the house. Their first step of freedom.


	9. Why Are You Here?

Lithuania knew they had left. He had stopped around the corner and watched Estonia and Latvia depart from the house. They had left. His friends were now free, and he was not. A little regret stabbed at his heart, but the Lithuanian felt that what he was doing was right. After a moment, he turned back around and slowly made his way up the stairs.

It wasn't hard for him to track down which room Russia had fled. Droplets of blood littered the steps and wooden floorboards. The spots soon began clumping together, being more noticeable on the planks. Lithuania followed these traces all the way up to Russia's bedroom. His door was shut, no sound could be heard inside. Was he in there? The Baltic took a deep breath and nervously knocked on the bedroom door.

"M-Mr. Russia?" Lithuania spoke shakily, not knowing what to expect behind the piece of wood separating him from a possible threat. "Can I-I come in...?" No answer. No sound. His answer was silence. That's when he decided to risk everything. Hands shaking, Lithuania took hold of the cold door handle and gently pushed it open.

Lithuania closed his eyes when he took a step into the room, expecting to be hit or slapped for entering without given permission. But, what he expected did not happen. He was not greeted by any pain or anyone. Opening his eyes, Lithuania's gaze drifted towards a large man hugging his knees in the corner of the room. The larger nation had his head bowed, shoulders shaking slightly from his quiet sobs. A small pool of red liquid could be seen on the floor by the Russian's side, the obvious source of the crimson droplets out in the hall. Russia did not acknowledge Lithuania's presence nor did he know he came in.

The Lithuanian bit his lip, slowly approaching the broken Russian. He knelt down next to him, a fear growing at being so closed to Russia.

"M-Mr. Russia.." Lithuania said, staring at the top of Russia's head. Russia sniffed and slowly looked up to meet the brunette nation's stare. His eyes were once again filled with tears, however his whole face looked paler than usual.

"Lithuania..." Russia's voice was hoarse and soft, much to Lithuania's surprise. Not once had he heard such a tone and voice come from Mr. Russia. Today was full of surprises, wasn't it. Lithuania didn't say anything at first, but gave Russia a pitiful stare. Russia stared back, his eyes frequently drifting downwards, avoiding the other's gaze. Not being able to take the awkward silence, Russia spoke, "Wh-What are you doing here...? I thought y-you left.."

"I wanted to see if you were okay." Lithuania replied, glancing down at the blood soaked tan coat the Russian wore. Blood continued to flow, however Russia paid no attention.

"I-I am fine..-" Russia suddenly let out a breathy whimper, clutching his side. His gloved hands, now stained with a warm, sticky fluid, shook slightly as it made contact with his wound. The pain in his side was nothing compared to the pain in his heart. His heart felt as if it was being squeezed and crushed, the pressure increasing by the second.

Lithuania moved his hand towards Russia, wanting to comfort him. "Mr. Russia.. your-"

"Why?" Russia cut in, voice feeble and weak. "Wh-Why do you all leave me? Why does everyone leave me? Why am I always alone?" He looked at Lithuania in a pleading manner, lips trembling as he was once again on the verge of more tears. "Why, Litva? I am not understanding... It hurts..." He trailed off, burying his face into his arms again. The hold on his side tightened, wincing at the throbbing pain. Lithuania watched him, feeling bad for the larger nation.

"Russia..." He began, speaking calmly and gently. "You don't treat others well. You hurt people, and force them to do things they don't want to do. You strip them from their rights and freedom-"

"I-I'm not understanding!" Russia exclaimed, yelping almost instantly after saying those words. "I don't know what you are meaning. I am only doing what is right-"

"But that isn't right, Russia." Lithuania interjected. "Hurting people is never right. You... You don't know how to love." Russia's sniffling silenced at that last word. Love.

 _L-... Love? What is that word? I have never heard it before._

Russia remained silence for a moment, his whimpering vanishing. "Why are you here?" He asked in a quiet voice, much like a child's. "Why aren't you leaving me?" The brunette didn't answer at first. A small smile appeared on lips as he held out a hand towards Russia.

"You're hurt." Lithuania replied, smiling shakily. When Russia did not take his hand, he slowly took the larger nation's hand in his. "I am wanting to help you. I don't want you to be hurt... I want to heal you." Russia stared wide eyed at the young nation. Help? Why would he help him? No one ever did.

"Y-You.." Russia mumbled as he felt fresh tears appear in his eyes. "Ack!" The Russian winced, the hand holding Lithuania's tightened as a sharp pain shot up his side. His vision suddenly began to blur as his body began to sway. Everything seemed to spin around him. All sound was muffled.

"Mr. Russia?" Lithuania's voice echoed throughout Russia's head. He blinked, trying to focus his eyesight, all attempts failing. "Mr. Russia?"

Before he knew it, he was lying on the ground with someone shaking him to get up. The last thing he remembered before blacking out was someone desperately trying to hold him up, their pleading voice barely making it to his ears.


	10. The Unknown Word

Darkness surrounded the Russian. He felt nothing as if he was in oblivion. He saw nothing, heard nothing, just... nothing. He thought he was surely dead, however that was not true. Russia wasn't dead. He couldn't be. He is a country after all.

He opened his eyes. At first, there was silence. That sooned changed when his senses began waking up. A soft rustling could be heard by his side, along with the gentle splashing of water. Blinking, he glanced over towards the source of the sound. As his vision slowly began to return, he saw a young man with pulled back brown hair soaking a small hand towel in a bowl of water. Russia blinked a couple other times and realised the bareness of his upper body. His coat and under garments had been removed, only leaving him with his scarf, which remained wrapped loosely around his neck.

"Oh, you are awake." The young man beside him said in a happy tone. Russia tilted his head to the side, coming to realise the young man was Lithuania.

"Lithuania..." He mumbled almost inaudibly. His side was sore, making everytime he took a breath or spoke a pain. Lithuania smiled warmly and took a seat in a chair by Russia's bedside.

"I cleaned your wound, sir." He spoke relaxed and calm, still wearing his usual kind smile. "I hope you do not mind. The bullet had passed through and through, so it was not much of a hassle to treat you." Russia barely paid any attention to what the brunette nation said. He was too busy trying to stop the aching feeling in his chest. Despite the strong pain throughout his body, Russia pushed himself upwards so his back rested against his bedframe. Yes, it was not the most comfortable position to sit, but he couldn't stand lying down.

Lithuania watched him, worried that he would hurt himself even further from this simple act of moving. "You shouldn't move just yet, Mr. Russia. You're still in bad shape." Russia merely shook his head, face expressionless.

"I am fine.." He said in a scratchy voice.

 _Why does my chest hurt? I was not shot there, was I? Nyet, I was not... But why is it much of the hurting?_

 _"_ What are you doing?" The Russian murmured while he hung his head. "The others have left, why not you?" Lithuania turned to the side table to ring out the water from the his cleaning rag. The corners of his mouth relaxed, causing his smile to fade from sight.

"Edua- I mean, Estonia shot you. I had to make sure you were okay." The brunette sighed and turned to face Russia. "I will leave, Mr. Russia. Not now, but soon. I will not stay here forever, however I will stay until you get better." His words soon blended in with the sound of splashing of water. The used to be pure, clear substance was now tainted with a hint of red. Russia watched Lithuania continuously wet the rag and ring out the excess water.

 _My chest hurts... Why does it hurt? It feels like something is breaking. What could be breaking? I don't want to be hurting... is there any way to heal my chest?_

"Mr. Russia." Lithuania's voice broke through his thoughts. "Why do you hurt us?" The Russian lowered his head, for once not knowing what to say. Hurting was not something he thought he was doing. Not once has he ever wanted to hurt them. Hard to believe, but it was true. Russia never meant to bring pain or harm to anyone.

"I-I do not understand.." Russia answered for what seemed like the hundredth time. He experienced the past few days with ultimate confusion. No one had ever approached him on this subject nor had they caused him to recollect and think back at his all-time beliefs. "You are saying I hurt you, but I am not seeing hurt. What is hurting? How am I hurting you?"

Now, if it was Estonia instead of Lithuania, there would be raised voices and possibly another injury. But Lithuania was not like Estonia. Letting out a soft sigh, the brunette nation leaned forward, propping his elbows up on his knees.

"Mr. Russia, you hurt us. You may not see it, but you do. When we don't agree with you, you hit and give us pain until we agree. If we do something wrong, even if it's a mistake, you physically abuse us. Everyone fears you because they think if they do something to your dislike, you will harm them. And.. the only reason why I am just now saying these things, is because I know in your state, you can not hurt me."

Russia's eyes widened slightly at all he had heard. Him hurting? He was the one being bad? But... why did he believe he was doing good?

"I," Russia said in an unusual tone that sounded so unlike his own voice. This made Lithuania tense up in his seat, his old fear crawling back. However, his fear soon diminished as he saw tears well up in Russia's eyes. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." The Russian spoke in such a broken and delicate voice, Lithuania was surprised that this was indeed Russia. More tears began to stream down his face, shoulders giving slight shakes from a threatening sob that wished to come.

"M-Mr. Russia.." Lithuania said gently as he pitifully stared at the crying nation. "Why are you crying?"

"I-I've been bad." Russia's words slurred into his choked in sobs. "I have not been meaning to be of hurt. B-But... I don't know what I am doing wrong. This is all I know. I-I only know how to bring pain and suffering..." His words soon transitioned into weak cries, mixed in with a few whimpers due to his side. It was a sad sight for Lithuania. Not once has Russia ever apologised, yet let alone break down, like this.

The elder nation lifted his trembling hands to his face as if to hide his shame. A throbbing feeling grew in his chest, making more tears come to his eyes. Lithuania's lips tilted upwards in a small smile.

"You don't have to be mean, Mr. Russia." He said gently to the weeping man. "There are different ways to treat people. Have you ever tried showing others love?" Russia's sobs died down at the word. The special word.

 _Love... L-O-V-E? What is this word?_

"L-Love?" Russia mumbled as he looked over at the Lithuanian with watery eyes. "I don't know what that is... What is 'love'?"

 _That word, it sounds... pretty. Love. I've never experienced this thing called 'love'. Is it a feeling? Is it an action? Is it an animal?_

 _What is love?_


	11. Love

Lithuania blinked in response to the Russian's confusion on the word.

"Love, sir." He said softly, looking at Russia with equal confusion. "You have never heard that word before?" The larger nation shook his head, completely lost on the subject.

"What is love, Litva?" Russia questioned quietly, looking down. It seemed like such a well-known word. Everyone seemed to know it, why not him? How come he was the only one who has never heard of such a word? "I have never heard of that... what is it?"

The brunette looked at Russia with wide olive green eyes. How could he answer such a question? Yes, it was a pretty simple wonderment. Three words, one question to define the meaning of a four-letter word. However, at that moment, Lithuania realised that such a simple question could have so many answers.

"Love..." Lithuania said slowly, looking off in thought. "Love, I guess, could be described as a warm feeling usually caused by someone else. Or.. it could be caused by something non living. In a gist, it's an emotion that is felt when something happy or kind, or just any positive action/emotion, happens to you." Russia stared at the Lithuanian, perplexed. How come he'd never heard such a word?

"But... what if you've never experienced love? Does everyone have love?"

This question stirred the air around them. Lithuania blinked, not knowing how to react. Not once had the younger nation heard of someone not being familiar with the term love, let alone the actual feeling. That's when it hit him. That's when Lithuania realised what was wrong. Why Russia was how he was. Why Russia did what he did. Why he never understood what was wrong. Why Russia.. was Russia. He never experienced Love, let alone felt it. Russia had never been loved.

"Mr. Russia...?" Lithuania addressed him softly and gently. "Has... Has no one ever shown you love before? Is that why you don't know what it is?" He gained silence, answering his question. The beige haired nation shifted where he rested on the bed, looking away.

"I am not knowing what you are meaning by love..." Russia murmured, his violet eyes locking with Lithuania's olive green ones. "People are always taking about it and saying they 'love' someone... but I never know what they mean. No one's ever said they 'loved' me, and I have never loved anyone. At least, I don't think I have..." The Russian let out a breath before continuing with a sad smile. "I... I am wanting to find love. I want to feel love. I want to experience being loved. I want... I want love..." His smile faded slightly. "... but there is no one who will show me what love is..."

The room was once again surrounded by silence. Russia hung his head down, not wanting to look Lithuania in the eye. Lithuania looked at Russia then back at his own hands. He was still cleaning up around the bedside. After a moment or two, the brunette nation sighed.

"Wh-What?" Russia asked as he felt two arms wrap around him, pulling him towards their chest. The Russian felt the other person's arms squeeze him softly, not letting go. "What are you doing, Lithuania...?" Lithuania didn't let go of the Russian and continued to hold him close.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Russia..." The brunette said quietly. "I could never imagine what it must be like to never know or feel love. Whatever went on in your past, no one should experience stuff as that." Russia blinked, his body stiffening from the embrace.

"L-Lithuania..?" He said questioningly. "Why are you squeezing me?" Lithuania let out a light chuckle, pulling away.

"It is called a hug, sir." He answered with a soft smile. A hug. The first gesture of love Russia learned. The larger nation tilted his head, processing this new word and action.

"A... hug?" He echoed in response. It was a strange word with a strange sound. Hug. One syllable. Three letters. Hug.

"Yes, a hug." Lithuania said softly. "It is a gesture of love. There are many gestures of showing love, Mr. Russia." Russia's violet eyes stared at Lithuania with a look of wonder and awe, much like a child.

"Many...?" The Russian asked, all of this new to his mind. How many gestures were there? Two? Ten? A hundred? Who knows. All Russia knew was that he wanted to learn all of them. He wanted to love others properly, so maybe, he could be loved in return.

"Yes, Mr. Russia. There are many ways to show love and affection." Lithuania smiled gently, tucking some of his brown hair behind his ear. "It's not hard to learn, and when you do learn, everyone will be happy and treat you the same. If you show love, they will show love back." Russia nodded. Suddenly, he remembered his Allies. They were trying to tell him to treat others differently, but he didn't know what they meant. Now, he knew why. They were trying to tell him to be more loving than hurtful. A sad look crossed the Russian's face as he remembered what they said and what he did. If he could take it all back and just listen to what they were trying to say, he would. But, unfortunately, he never had the ability to turn back time.

"I have been very bad to my friends..." Russia sighed, looking down. "I hurt them, and one special one in particular." He took a pause before asking, "Lithuania, can you help me?" Lithuania blinked and tilted his head.

"Yes, anything, sir. What are you needing help with?"

"How," Russia began as he lifted his violet eyes once again to meet Lithuania's green ones, "do you learn how to love? I want to show others love.. I want to make amends with those I did wrong to." Lithuania's eyes softened at the question. It was a question only a child would ask.

"Time, sir." Lithuania said with a grin. "It all takes time to learn how to love. Watch others around you and they will show you how to express it and give it. For example, I hugged you. I taught you one gesture. You just have to open your eyes to see it, Mr. Russia." Russia grinned softly. There was hope for him being accepted by others. Hope in finally being about to have friends. Hope in finally being able to be warm instead of cold. Will this 'love' thaw his frozen heart? Will he finally be set free from this isolation?

"Spasibo, Litva. You are much of the kindness." Russia let out a breath. "Thank you, for teaching me that word. I pondered for so long to learn that word. So, thank you... Thank you for everything." Lithuania chuckled lightly and leaned over to wipe some of his beige hair out of his eyes.

"Another gesture of love," He informed the Russian, "Giving thanks." Russia's eyes widened slightly at his first time showing a gesture of love. Thanking someone. Who knew love could be so simple to show? The Russian giggled softly and leaned back in his bed.

"I will start to learn as soon as I can, Litva. Maybe... in the future I can show you what I've learned."

"Yes, I would gladly appreciate that. But for now, let's rest. You are still needing to heal." Russia nodded at the brunette's words and laid back onto his pillow. His violet eyes fluttered closed; a smile still evident on his lips.

"Sleep well, Ivan."

 _Love. A simple word with four letters and one syllable. Who knew such a small word could have such a big meaning?_


	12. A Start Anew

A week had passed since Estonia's gunfire.

A week and two days had passed since Russia woke up.

A week and two days had passed since Russia had discovered love.

Every day as Russia recovered, Lithuania taught him a new gesture. First it was a handshake, then it was a compliment. His favourite would had to be the smile. Oh how such a simple action could give so much love. Who knew how easy it was to give love. Such thoughts and feelings warmed the Russian's heart. He listened intently whenever the Lithuanian had proposed yet another action of love.

After the second week had passed, Russia had fully recovered and could move along on his own. A bullet scar was still evident on the side of his body; it was another scar to his collection. Lithuania had gathered up all his belongings and Russia allowed him to take leave.

"Don't worry, Mr. Russia. I will be back." Lithuania said with a waem smile. He stopped at the front door, his bags and such in his hands. "It is not like I am leaving you forever. We are still friends and I will pay you visits when I can." The Russian smiled softly and waved the brunette.

"Da, I know. We are friends, and friends see each other when they are needing company."

Lithuania nodded at that statement and replied with a soft smile. "Yes, and I shall visit you and see how you are doing, sir." The smaller nation hopped onto the front steps and began walking towards the awaiting car to drive him back to the airport in order to go back to his own home. Russia watched from the doorway and waved one of his gloved hands.

"See you soon, Litva!"

"Goodbye, Ivan. I will see you soon."

And with that, Lithuania disappeared into the car along with his belongings. Russia watched the car start up and drive down the snow paved road until the car was no more.

He was alone now. No one else was in his house except for him. An empty feeling settled in his heart, but for some odd reason... it wasn't that bad. Despite the feeling of abandonment from the other Baltics (excluding Lithuania), nothing really made him feel down. Maybe it was because of that new word Lithuania taught him; love.

Ah, love. Just the sound of it made Russia's whole being warm. It thawed the ice which had held captive his weary heart for so long. The single syllable word splashed colour wherever he looked. It interested and awed him on how such a simple word could do so much to a person.

Smiling, Russia turned back and stepped back into his house. He was a new person now. He wasn't cold hearted anymore nor was he cruel or hurtful. He's gone past that now; Lithuania made him realise his wrong doings. With a happy heart, the Russian grabbed his tan coat which hung nearly on the coat rack and slipped it on.

It was a new day, unlike any he had before. It was a new feeling. A new experience. A new... life.

Russia decided it was time to make amends with those he had done wrong. It was time for him to apologise and start anew with his fellow allies.

 _Will they accept me? Will they forgive?_

It was time for him to discover the ways of love. It was time for him to go on a journey. It was time for Russia... to declare himself not a monster.

He had a heart and he sure as hell was gonna show that he can use it.

 **Author's Note (Please Read):**

 **Okay, the reason why I have not been updating this story more frequently and as much as I would hope for is because I, being stupid, had thought up this grand and amazing story plot aaaaaand forgot it. Yes, I forgot to write it down and I forgot where I was going with this story.**

 **So, please bare in mind that I am somewhat winging it now so this story can go all over the place and in ways you may least expect it. I mean, who doesn't enjoy a good plot twist? Yeah~ good luck with that.**

 **Anyways, so please be patient as I work my way through this story. It may be awhile but I PROMISE I will not give up with this story. This story will keep going and it will not be inactive.**

 **And with that, thank you and I hope you enjoyed this little chapter~**


	13. Unknown

_He's a monster. All he is going to do is hurt and keep hurting._

I paced my spacious room with my hands in my pockets. It wasn't a crowded room due to the lack of furniture and personal belongings. The window outside portrayed a bright and sunny image of the land surrounding my flat. Green was everywhere. Trees littered the perimeter of my house, casting a cheerful feeling on the land. This feeling, however, did not effect me. My heart still pounded with hatred and anger. Oh how these emotions boomed more commonly in me.

 _There's nothing that can change him. He'll end up severely wounding or abusing someone; not like he hasn't done it before._

Footsteps pattered outside my door, obviously one of my human servants. They were overjoyed when they saw me the day prior. It baffled me, but I just smiled and politely greeted them. The meeting would have been better if I didn't have such things on my mind. Such bugging and nerve-wracking things.

 _Someone has to stop him. Wait... Someone..._

A grin tugged at my lips, soon growing even wider. My shoulders shook slightly from a threatening chuckle.

 _Someone as in me... yes. I shall be the one to tame the beast. To save everyone else. To be rid of such a dangerous monster._

My hands wrapped around the pocket knife in which I always carried in my back pocket. (I only use it for emergencies and life-threatening situations) I flung it out and stared at the clean, gleaming surface. Such a shining object that would soon be dulled with blood.

 _I'll use this to make sure he doesn't hurt anyone else. I'll stab this through his unfeeling heart. Yeah, that'll teach him. That'll teach him to leave us alone. That'll teach him to go back to solitude; to where he belongs._

With a swift motion of the arm, I threw the knife against the wall. It stabbed perfectly straight, never missing my intentional target.

 **A/N:**

 **This is the only chapter I'll be doing in first-person by the way.**

 **I was unclear on who the speaker is but, well, you know...**

 **Oh, and why the past few chapters were so short is because I'm building up on the second part of the story. My long chapters will continue (hopefully next chapter) so look forward to that!**


	14. Stupid Americans

**Authors Note:**

 **Just going to mention that from here on out, I'll be addressing the countries as their human names. So Russia is now Ivan, America is Alfred, etc.**

 **Just letting you know now.**

The first person Ivan decided to visit was Alfred. Yeah, not the best decision he ever made, but it was a start. The others would have to wait and he, for some reason, believed Alfred would be more understanding. So wrong.

He hadn't been to the United States for a while now. It's not like he had any valid reason to visit in the past. Alfred and him weren't exactly on good terms.

That day was a sunny one. The sky was clear and birds flew above his head as Ivan walked down the streets of New York City. It was odd to be surrounded by so many people, and by so many loud noises. Everywhere he looked there was life. Even the building seemed alive as the honking of the car horns rebounded off its tall surface. Ah, the atmosphere warmed his heart. It was certainly a sight to behold.

After making his way through the crowded streets, he reached the apartment building in which the American stayed in his two bedroom complex. The Russian walked up the steps and stared face to face with the door. Its new painted wood stared back at him as if silently beckoning him to hurry up and know. That's exactly what Ivan did.

 _Knock Knock_

Ivan stood awkwardly as he awaited for Alfred to open the door. Whether he would answer him or not was still a mystery. He couldn't predict anything with the American. Suddenly, the faint sound of footsteps were heard thundering down a flight of steps. Then came a loud thud and a censored word that shall remain to the reader's imagination. After the shuffling of feet and unlatching of a lock, the door swung open to reveal a cheery looking American.

"Hey!" Alfred greeted. "What's up- Shit, it's you." He suddenly cracked the door and squinted up at Ivan. Ivan remained smiling, but faltered a bit as he did so.

"Privet, Alfred." Was the simple greeting he gave back to the narrowed eyed blonde.

"Look, I'm not here to become one with you, or do any shit like that, okay?" Alfred said in a slightly irritated tone. A cold glare passed his eyes as he continued. "So don't you dare try to hurt me. I have Mattie and Iggy on speed dial so I could holler for them whenever I need to. My seventy-two hours of playing Call of Duty ain't for nothing, you know. Not to mention my sweet as fuck Nerf Gun collection. I will have you know that I can kick your ass. Uh-huh. You heard me. I will kick that commie ass of yours so hard that you'll be be demoCRYING (stupid pun for democracy) for mercy! Hah! So you can just suck my-"

"I am not here to fight." Ivan said with an exasperated sigh. Honestly, friend or not, Alfred, if he was in a mood, would use this same exact rambling with them. "I am here to speak with you, only speak."

Alfred cocked up an eyebrow at that statement, debating whether or not to let him in. He seemingly came unarmed so what reason would he have to not let him in. "Alright... well come on in." The American said, opening the door wider and stepping out of the way. Ivan nodded his head and slowly took a step inside.

The interior of the place was, as expected, a mess. Furniture and other personal belongings seemed to fill every crook and corner. Comic books could be seen stacked along the edges of the walls that led towards what seemed like the American's bedroom, not to mention the countless video games and movies. The strong aroma of bacon and eggs filled his nostrils the more he walked inside. Alfred apparently had just eaten his morning meal.

"If you want to talk, let's talk in here." Alfred said, walking over into his living room. This room was just like the rest, very crowded. Ivan had to take his time to try not to step on his belongings which seemed to be scattered everywhere. After making his way across the room, the Russian took a seat on the couch across from Alfred. Alfred leaned back and put his hands behind his head in a relaxed manner. "What's up, dude? What do ya want to talk about?"

Ivan shifted a bit before he sighed. "I... I wanted to apologise for everything..." This caught Alfred off guard. Apologising? Not once had he ever heard of Ivan apologising.

"You... what?" Alfred said with a slight tilt of the head. Ivan expected this. Toris did say it would be hard to earn people's forgiveness.

"Da, I'm sorry..." Ivan repeated, hanging his head. "I am sorry for being so cruel and mean to you. I never meant to hurt you, Alfred. If I did, it was unintentional and I hope you can forgive me." The Russian fell quiet for a moment, unsure what to say next. Maybe he'll learn to properly apologize on the way... starting with Alfred. After a second, he said once again, "I'm sorry."

Silence. That's the reaction Ivan received. Then, the words.

"Sorry? You honestly came all this way to apologise?" Alfred exclaimed with a light laugh. Ivan froze, his eyes widened as he stared down at his lap.

"I, uh-"

"It's not that big of a deal, man. We all go through rough spots and dark times, and we all have fall-outs with those around us. It's impossible for us to not go through stuff like this. Well, maybe Japan 'cause that dude's like a perfect— The point is, things like this happen. I've had my share of bad times where I've been a total douche to people." Alfred chuckled a put a finger under Ivan's chin and lifted it up. Sapphire eyes stared into violet ones. "Keep your head up, dude! The fact that you got the guts to apologize earns automatic forgiveness from me! You faced and accepted your mistakes; not many can do that." Ivan was speechless. He never realised how caring Alfred really was. How kind he was. Maybe it was because he never got to really know Alfred... or maybe he was too blinded by his own actions and the American's gestures never reached him.

"You.." Ivan frantically searched for words to say. "Thank you.. Thank you for forgiving me, Alfred." The blonde chuckled and shrugged.

"No problem, dude! I know what it's like to do something stupid or regretful and want forgiveness. Hell, just ask Block Brows. He could tell you all you wish to know about my lame ass moves— but don't ask him. It's quite embarrassing.. Then again.." Alfred continued to ramble on with Ivan zoning out. Not once had he ever had someone treat him so nicely. Not once had anyone should him compassion such as this. Is this all because Ivan learnt to love? Is this all because of love? Suddenly, Ivan felt his vision blur as tears began to well up in his eyes unexpectedly.

"Huh?" Alfred quit his chatter as he noticed the glossiness of Ivan's violet orbs. "What's wrong? Did I say something?" The sudden teary-eyes caught the American off guard. At that moment, he thought back of every little thing and word he said but couldn't find anything that would cause the larger nation to cry.

"N-Nyet," Ivan said with a slight chuckle, ceasing Alfred's thoughts, "I am just much relieved that you said such things. You are very kind."

"Hah, I'm just doing what a hero does!" He exclaimed happily with a bright smile. "A hero is always nice to those who deserve it! Besides, you're a cool guy Ivan. Despite our events in the past, I don't really think down about you. Hey, give it here." Alfred held up his right hand in front of the Russian and kept it up. He stared at Ivan with a wide grin, hand still raised. Ivan looked up at the American's hand then back at him then back at his hand.

"A-Are you going to slap me?" He questioned, starting to cower away from the hand. Previous bosses often used the slapping punishment on him so it was only instinct for him to turn away. However, this wasn't the case. Alfred let out a light laugh and waved his hand a bit.

"Nah, bro. It's a high-five! You just lightly hit your hand on my own." He lifted his other hand and smacked it against his own, making a light clapping sound. Ivan tilted his head a bit at this new action. It was quite odd, but fitted Alfred perfectly. Slowly and hesitantly, Ivan raised his own gloved hand held it up to the level of Alfred's. Alfred chuckled and reached over to lightly tap Ivan's hand. "See? A high-five! Ah, it's something I do a lot at my place. It's somethin' you do to greet someone or just wanna cheer them up. Ah, I don't know. High-fives are just common." He shrugged as Ivan slowly lowered his hand. It was a weird feeling, yet it warmed his heart—

 _High-Five_

 _Two words, two syllables_

 _A gesture often used in a positive manner that can be used to greet others or to express happy feelings_

A smile began to tug at the Russian's lips as the word processed into his mind.

"High... Five." He repeated just like how he did with 'hug'. How interesting. Who knew love could be shown in the weirdest ways. It certainly did boggle the larger nation's mind.

"Hey, why don't you hang out with me today?" Alfred offered through the silence that had begun to set out upon them. "You're already here, might as well chill for a couple hours." Ivan thought over what the American said before nodding in agreement.

"Da! I would love to.. um.. hang out." He spoke aloud the last words with an unfamiliar tone. The American just laughed lightly at the Russian's confused expression.

"Ah, you're such a dork. Wait here, I'll get you some sodas and snacks."

 _Hang Out_

 _Two words, two syllables_

 _The act of spending time with someone in a friendly manner_

Love doesn't always have to be romantic, you know.


	15. A Visit To The Past (Flashback)

**Let's take a moment to go back and visit little Russia boy...**

It was a snowy day, which is mainly everyday, and Ivan was working diligently on a project his boss assigned him to do. It wasn't a major project so Ivan didn't worry too much about it being perfect. However, that didn't stop him from trying to make it absolutely perfect. It had to be. It always had to be. Anything considered not perfect was highly looked down upon.

"Ah, I'm finished!" Ivan exclaimed with a bright smile. "Boss should be much of the happiness! He'll be here soon so I can hand this to him when he arrives!" His eyes shone with relief and accomplishment as he held up the packet of papers. Slightly bloodied bandages wrapped around his fingers and wrists, but his injuries didn't dampen his mood. He finished a project (at a surprisngly fast pace) and that flooded him with happiness and self-pride.

Ivan was currently sitting down on a chair beside his desk. His feet swung below since he was not yet big enough to reach the floor. The edge of the desk lined up with his chest, making it somewhat difficult to reach the other end. Little snow particles flew in through the partially opened window and landed on the clean surface of the desk. A cool breeze blew in, sending chills down Ivan's spine. Outside, a few voices were heard coming near to the house. The voices gradually grew louder and were followed by the opening of the door. It was the front door.

"Russia! Come down, now!" The bellowing voice of his current boss roared up the stairs. Ivan flinched at the sound and gripped the packet of papers tightly. The sound of his boss yelling always sent his nerves on edge. Regaining himself, the Russian hopped off of the chair and pattered down the steps. The holes in his shoes allowed his little toes to poke out in the fronts of them as he sprinted towards his boss.

Three men stood at the front of the main hall: His boss and his side workers. They gave off the feeling of intimidation, making Ivan's legs tremble as he drew closer. A common feeling he had towards his leader; it would be odd to feel anything other than fright.

"Sir!" Ivan greeted the way he was taught how. "I finished the paperwork you ordered me to do!" His grip on the packet loosened as he held it up towards his boss. A smile of pride was on his face as he did so, shaking a bit at the look his boss gave him. The Russian leader frowned and snatched up the packet, causing Ivan to flinch yet again. Flinching seemed like an all-time movement for him.

"You call this finished?!" His boss shouted, throwing the paperwork in Ivan's face. "It's not filled out completely and it's all incorrect!" Before he knew it, Ivan felt himself being jerked up from the shirt front. In an instant, he found himself being held eye level to his country's leader. Angry eyes stared into frightened ones. "This was due today, and I expected it to be finished on time."

"I-I did the best I could-" Ivan tried to explain, feeling his eyes water and body tremble.

"Well your best isn't enough!" Suddenly, his boss threw Ivan back down onto the floor. Ivan cowered on the ground as he held his bandaged hands over his head.

 _Nyet, not today... Please... I did best I could... I tried... I trie-_

Ivan's silent pleads ceased as a foot made contact with his face. A quiet yelp escaped his lips as he fell backwards as the foot slammed against his side. It didn't take long until the kicks were tripled as the two men who came with his boss joined in.

"Work is nothing to put off! You must complete everything on time; there is no other option!" His boss's scoldings rang in his ears as they finally quit kicking. Bruises were visible all over Ivan as he shook on the floor. His eyes were shut tight, refusing to stare upon the eyes of his worst nightmare.

"I-I'm sorry! I was t-trying to do my b-best.." The Russian child cried softly, glancing up at his leader. "S-Sir, please believe me. I d-did everything I coul-"

 _Smack_

A hand was brought down upon his face, stifling his explanations. It was strong blow. Strong enough to draw blood. Ivan raised a hand and lightly touched his torn cheek. He whimpered as his fingers made contact with the warm, sticky liquid.

"You need to be taught a lesson." The superior growled, stepping close to the injured boy. "I can't have this happen again."

 _No more... Please, no more... Why can't I ever do anything right?_

Without any hesitation, the boss's knuckles collided with the side of Ivan's face. Ivan winced as a hand jerked him off of the floor yet again.

"You're a horrible country!" The words were shouted into his aching ears and echoed down the halls.

"P-Please, sir!" Ivan pleaded, tears falls down his bruised and bleeding cheeks. "I was doing the best I could! I p-promise, next time I'll—"

"Next time?! You say that all the time!" Another slap to the face. "Words will never reach you. You must be taught by force and physical pain." No, not the pain card. Everything he did led to his country officials hurting him. They weren't wrong though. How else would he learn? What else is there to learn from?

"Say it: I'm a monster and I can't ever do things right. Say it!"

"I-I don't want to—"

"Repeat it!"

"I can't—"

 _Click_

Ivan's breathing hitched as he heard the click of a pocket knife. A moment of silence set down on them before a shaky whimper escaped his lips. His boss held up the shining blade so Ivan could see it clearly before his eyes.

"You know I never want to lead it to this, but you're leaving me no choice." The Russian Leader's voice was low and dangerous as he held the knife's edge to Ivan's neck. Scars from previous punishments were still visible around his neck. They were all reminders of what happens when he doesn't do what's right. It reminds him of why he was such a bad nation.

The knife began to dig into the side of Ivan's neck; red began to appear. He whimpered at the feel of it as his boss laughed at his weakness.

"Say it, Ivan. Say: I'm a monster and I can't ever do things right." Ivan shook his head, only making the knife break more of his skin.

"I-I'm not a monst—" the Russian boy tried to talk back but only caused the knife to slowly and painfully trace a crimson line across his neck.

"Yes you are!" His boss shouted as he grew impatient. "Now say it, before I carve the words into you!" Ivan let out a weak cry as he knew his leader wasn't lying. It had happened before, and the words 'unwanted' and 'lonely' we're still roughly etched upon his back. It was only after blood began to drench his collar he decided to give in.

"I-I'm a monster... I c-can't do anything right." Each word sent a dagger through his heart. Saying it out loud made the words feel true. He wasn't wrong. He was a monster and he could never do anything right... right?

"Louder." Came the hiss of the Russian leader. Oh how he just enjoyed watching his own country tremble before him. The sight of such things made him feel powerful and strong. When Ivan didn't repeat again, the knife's tip was dragged across his cheek. More blood, more cuts, more pain.

"I-I'm a monster! I can't do anything right!" Ivan sobbed out, his tears stinging his bleeding cheeks. He cried hysterically in the hold of his boss's hands as more tears fell. To his leader's pleasure, Ivan screamed out even more, "I'm lonely and deserve to be alone! No one loves m-me! I can never be nice, only h-hurt! People fear me b-because I'm a monster! I'm horrible and mean a-and cruel and d-don't deserve to have companionship! I'm destined t-to be alone! Loneliness i-is my only friend..." His words transitioned into soft cries as silence set around them. Yes, that's exactly what the Russian leader wanted to hear. It was all repeated statements that was brainwashed into his mind.

"Good. Never forget that, Ivan." With a rough shove, Ivan felt himself drop back onto the floor. He curled up and bawled into his hands.

Seeing how their work was done, the Russian leader waved off his men and exited the house. Simple as that. They checked to see if work was done. It was not. So they administered proper punishment, and left. Even if Ivan completed it all correctly, they would find some part of it that didn't reach the praise as the rest and scold him for it. So, this routine happened quite often. It happened so often, that Ivan learnt to dealt with it whenever they came by.

The house was suddenly quiet when the men left. Ivan remained curled up on the floor with his wounds bleeding out. They weren't as extensive as his previous ones, but they were quite something.

 _Why does this always happen?... I try to be the best I can... but I'm always of disobedience..._

Ivan opened his now black eye and squinted before him. The halls were empty and silent. The walls were bare and everything still. If it weren't for the falling snow outside, he could've believed time had stopped. So lonely... So empty... Solitude surrounded him.

 _I wish I had friend. Boss says I don't deserve a friend... He said I'll never make friends because I'm hated. I know he's right..._

Ivan pushed himself up in a sitting position, wincing at his wounded body. His torn shoes were splotched with red along with the rest of his clothes. Brushing away his beige hair, the Russian realised that blood was trickling from his head. How many times had his blood been drawn in such a way? How long will it be before this happens again? What reason will bring him another beating?

"I-I don't know what I'm doing wrong!" Ivan began to cry out into the vacant house. Tears rolled down his cheeks as his sobs echoed off of the walls. "It h-hurts... I don't want t-to hurt! Why can't I have friends like the o-others? I don't want to be monster! I'm n-not trying to be scary... I just want friends... But no one will be friend with me. I-I don't want to be lonely! I j-just want..." His words slurred in with his sobs until his crying was the only thing heard. Each cry grew louder and louder as if the pain in his heart increased with each tear. His own cries rang in his ears. The wounds on his body sent sharp pains throughout him. Everything was—

 _Bump_

Ivan was jerked awake from the landing of the plane. People around him slowly awoke from their own sleep. It was only a dream. A dream which awoke his most dreaded and painful memories of his past. It was more like a nightmare really.

Gingerly, Ivan reached up his hand and slowly pulled down his scarf. His fingers made contact with his battered skin.

The scars of his past were forever engraved upon his neck.

 **A/N:**

 **In case anyone asks, everything in his dream happened. Yes, he dreamed it but it was memories from his past.**

 **I just wanted to have a chapter that gave the reader a look on how little Ivan's life was like and what he experienced. :)**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter~**


	16. Les Belles Rue De Paris

The day in America was great. Ivan learnt a lot about the concepts of hanging out with someone. It was a first- hanging out that is. Spending time with friends, or just people in general, wasn't something to his knowledge. Spending time with himself, yes, but spending time with others, that was a no. But, he was glad he managed to learn how to do that with Alfred.

About two days after his encounter with Alfred, Ivan decided to move onto the next person he was going to apologise to. The Russian decided to go visit the nicer people whom he believed to be the most forgiving. Of course, Alfred was a clueless start, but how that went, Ivan wanted the next time to be just like that. So, two days later, he set off to France.

Ivan knew Francis would be kind to him, or at least he hoped he would. He never heard any word of the Frenchman being harsh or inconsiderate to anyone (well, maybe Arthur put in a few of those words but his opinions on Francis don't count). Maybe he would be kind and forgiving like how Alfred was. When you think about it, they're hearts and ways of thinking were pretty similar. Both were optimistic and generally kind. Both were humble and never seemed to have anyone dislike them for who they were personally (again, counting out Arthur). Ivan nodded to himself as those thoughts wrapped around his mind. Yes, Francis was a good person to speak with next.

It was different atmosphere from the United States. The buildings around weren't nearly as big as the skyscrapers near Alfred's house, and it seemed to have a much more comfortable, nostalgic mood to it. It didn't seem to have that modern feel; the environment still had the feel of the past. The people walking around had a much more friendly attitude, more welcoming than the Americans. Ivan smiled as he observed the area. Soon, he found himself walking up to the Frenchman's wooden front door.

He took a deep breath and raised his gloved hand to knock softly at the door. How would he be greeted? It made him wonder how Francis would open up. Would he invite him in? Or would they just speak from the inside out. You never know.

Suddenly, the soft shuffling of footsteps were heard from behind the slab of wood and the click of a lock. The door slowly opened to reveal a calm looking man with freshly brushed blonde hair.

"Hm? Ivan?" Francis questioned with arched eyebrows. He wore a simple, loosely buttoned long sleeved shirt and ordinary pants. It would appear that he hadn't really dressed to go outside today, more like he had just woken up.

"Privet, Francis." Ivan greeted softly with a tiny smile. He never really had any significant relations with the Frenchman. The two never had one-on-one conversations or time together so any words exchanged in the past were few. Francis looked up at the larger man with a look of confusion and wonder.

"What are you doing here?" Francis questioned in a relaxed manner. Ivan was grateful that he wasn't giving him suspicious looks, as did Alfred. The way things were going and how Francis responded made Ivan feel a little more confident about how it would go about. However, this slim ray of confidence was soon shattered when another voice came from the house.

"Who is it? I swear to God, if it is another one of your bloody wine deliverers. You have loads already in the sellers-"

Ivan sighed as he saw Arthur come into few from behind Francis. He, too, was in casual clothing and could appear to have just gotten out of bed. The Brit's impatient expression suddenly turned into a hateful glare towards the Russian.

"Privet, Arthur." Ivan greeted as Arthur opened his mouth to say something. Oh, now this might put a damper on things. Arthur was, and always seemed to be, the complete opposite of the American and Frenchman.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?!" Arthur exclaimed, aghast. He shoved Francis to the side to get a better glare up at Ivan. "Did you come here to threaten and hurt us?! Well that would be a huge cock up for you. Don't you dare try to lay a single bloody finger on us. Did you think it was a brilliant idea to take us on in bright daylight and out of no where? If so, then sod off, will you?! Your pathetic Russian tactics do not intimidate me! May I remind you, for I doubt your ignorant mind could comprehend this massive amount of useful information, that I was a former pirate? Therefore, I will not hesitate to shove my foot up your sorry arse. I will shove it up there so hard, you'll start to chunder rubbish! So don't you dare even ponder the thought of trying to mess with me, or this frog!"

Yes. The resemblance and similarities of the Brit and American were becoming clearer to Ivan's mind. It didn't even surprise him that Arthur rambled on like this, just like how Alfred did. He know knew where the American got it from. In all honesty, it amused him.

"Now, Angleterre," Francis said, keeping hold of his calm demeanour. He gently put his hands on Arthur's shoulder and moved him back a bit. "Ivan isn't going to hurt us. If he was, he would have done it right when I opened the door." Ivan nodded silently to that statement, making sure they knew he didn't come as a threat. Francis smiled slightly then turned back to Arthur. "He came to tell us something, non? Let's be kind enough to listen. Besides, he traveled quite a distance." Leave it to Francis to be the 'good cop' of the situation to release the tension in the room.

"Da, I came here to tell you something..." Ivan said quietly, averting his gaze from Arthur's harsh stare.

"If it's to ask to 'become one with you'," Arthur retorted, furrowing his brows, "then you know my answer would be a big, fat no-"

"I came here to apologise." Ivan blurted out. Arthur blinked in surprise and Francis tilted his head to the side.

"Apologise?" The long haired blonde questioned. "What do you have to be sorry fo-"

"Go on." Arthur interrupted, crossing his arms. His emerald eyes narrowed up at the Russian, now curious to see what he had to say.

"I.. I'm sorry." Ivan said, looking down. It never was easy once he got to it. "I'm sorry for how I acted back at the meeting, and how I have been in the past. I didn't know I was being of hurt to you... Anything I did was unintentional and if I could change it, I would. I know you won't forgive me easily, but I just wanted to apologise for all I've done.." Francis blinked in response, Arthur huffed.

"Is that all?" He said as if to pry him of more apologetic words. "After years of what you have done, that is all you have to say? Well, after hearing that I don't know if we can forg-"

"I forgive you." Francis interjected, giving the Russian a warm smile. Ivan looked up in surprise, Violet eyes widened.

"Y-You do?" He questioned, asking for a solid answer. The Frenchman nodded as his smile grew bigger.

"Oui, I do. You were kind enough to arrive personally at my doorstep to say those words to me in person. That made me come to realise that you truly meant every word you said. Now, I doubt you knew my precious Angleterre was going to be here, but yet you still apologised, despite his rude attitude." Arthur elbowed him roughly in the rib.

"I don't have a rude attitude!" He hissed, now sending him the angry glare. After a moment, the Brit let out a sigh and crossed his arms. "I... I suppose I have to agree with the snail slurper on this. It takes a true gentleman to face his mistakes and strive to make things better. Plus, it takes a true gentleman to forgive others of their mistakes despite how impolite and rude they were." Arthur paused for a moment before mumbling, "I forgive you."

Ivan felt his face light up with delight. His heart suddenly felt warm due to the happiness he now felt. Not only Francis, but Arthur forgave him as well! Oh, how joyful and relieved the Russian felt at that moment. It was as if a portion of his worries and stress was miraculously wiped away.

"S-Spasibo!" Ivan thanked, letting out a soft giggle. "It makes me cheerful smile to hear that!" Francis chuckled lightly into his hand as Arthur merely scoffed.

"Well?" Arthur grumbled. "If that was all you had to say then I bid you a goodbye." The Englishman did a short wave and stalked off back into the house. It was obvious he was not in his brightest moods- actually, when was he ever in a bright mood. Francis turned to Ivan and grinned happily, "Is that all you wished to speak with me about?"

Ivan was about to nod a 'yes' when something stopped him.

"Um... Nyet," the Russian said slowly, contemplating on whether or not he should say. "I wanted to ask you something else..."

"Oui? What is it, Ivan?"

"Can... Can you tell me about love?"

 **_**  
 **Author's Note:**  
 **Ah! Sorry for the long wait on this one! I was working on my other fanfic (the Hetalia Zombie Apocalypse one). Usually, I work on one or the other so whichever one I'm not working on goes on a short hiatus.**  
 **(btw sorry if the title is wrong, I'm not fluent in French lol)**

 **But I managed to update this one! Finally!**

 **Anyways, I hope you enjoyed his chapter!**

 **Please leave your feedback in the reviews/comments! I love to hear them and they motivate me to keep writing! :)**


	17. The Language of Love

"Love, hm? Well, you certainly have come to the right person."

Ivan nodded as he sat down on one of the couches in Francis's house. It was quite a spacey house. Vases with roses and sweet fragrances seemed to be spread everywhere. Not to mention the lovely decor and welcoming atmosphere. The aura of the house made Ivan feel warm inside and safe. He was surprised to feel such a way in a house he never visited.

Francis sat beside the Russian, smiling brightly at him. Arthur had left to go make tea since he had no need of learning about love. The Frenchman taught him that enough during their free time. Whatever Francis told Ivan he would already know. That's the perks of being with the country of love.

"Da, I am wanting to know about love." Ivan replied with a warm smile. For some reason, he was really happy and excited. He couldn't wait to learn about love from the one who knew it more than anyone. All those years of yearning for such knowledge will finally be made known to him. Right now. "You can tell me about it, da?"

Francis chuckled softly at that and nodded as the smile on his lips widened. "Of course, Ivan! I will tell you all you wish to know about it." He sighed contently, looking up dreamily. "Ah... love. Such a beautiful word, non? It's a small word but has such a big effect and meaning. Just the sound of the word 'love' warms my heart. I can speak hours about love if someone gives me the chance." A little giggle escaped his lips. "I've tried with Arthur but he always ends up falling asleep. Silly Angleterre."

Ivan smiled as well. The word 'love' also warmed his heart. Even though he didn't know much about it, just the hearing of the word sent unexplainable waves of comfort throughout him. It was nice to feel something like that for once. "Can everyone love? Does everyone find love and experience it?" That was a question he had been meaning to ask and find an answer for. All his life he had been forced to know that he couldn't love anyone and no one would love him. So, he wondered if it was possible for him to acquire such a beloved emotion. At that question, Francis blinked in surprise.

"Yes! Everyone can love and everyone can find it." He answered with a genuine tone. "We all have that special someone we are connected to and are destined to spend out lives with. Everyone has someone in their life that they would love with all their heart and that love to be exchanged. I know.. sometimes it may seem like you never will obtain this precious 'love'. Some go through break up and heartbreak and grow to give up on love. Just the thought makes my heart ache... But, every heartbreak and break up just means you're gradually making your way closer to the one who is meant for you. Everyone can love, and everyone has someone to love them. However, the love I just explained to you is romantic love."

"Romantic love?" Ivan questioned with the tilt of the head. Francis nodded.

"Oui, Romantic love is one of the three major branches of love. There is Romantic, Friendship, and Family love." The Frenchman smiled in thought before continuing. "Friendship love is where you love someone who is not related and you care for them deeply as if they were family. Some friendship leads to romantic love but that's not so all the time. That only happened when the connection between the two people grow stronger." He paused for a moment to think as if to ponder on a lovely memory. "Hm.. there is also family love. Now, this love is quite special. It's a special love you can only share with your parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles, etc. Only they can receive this love from you and they are the only people who can give you this love. Sometimes it may seem that your family doesn't love you, and they may say it, but listen here: They do love you. No matter how much they say they don't and they try to not love you, they still do. Family love is the only love that can't be thrown away, that can't disappear. It never ends. Sure, friendship love and romantic love can end, but not family love. That's why it's special. It never dies. A small part of it always rests in our hearts."

There was so much about love... So much Ivan had never known. He felt his eyes widen as Francis explained, utter joy filling him. Love was beautiful. All he learnt from that description alone made him want to learn more. He wanted love. He wanted to feel love. He wanted to witness love in the act. He wanted to give love. He wanted to associate with love. Love. He wanted love.

"How can I give love? I want to know how to show someone I love them."

Francis thought about this question for a moment before a light smile appeared on his face. "Giving love, hm? My.. There are many ways to give love. Some gestures are for a specific branch of love and some share gestures. Is there a specific branch you wish to know how to show love in?"

Ivan shook his head, the smile on his face increasing. "Nyet, not a specific. Any gesture would do." This statement just made Francis chuckle. What a wonderful visit from the Russian this has been.

"Well, there's always a kiss." Francis said, eyes glistening with thought.

A kiss? What was a kiss? Ivan had never even heard of such a word. It sounded like something a snake would say. A kiss... "What's a kiss?"

"A kiss.." Francis began to explain, drumming his fingers on his knee. "It's a rare gesture that can be given in all the branches of love. A kiss can be Romantic, Friendship, and Family. A lot of people think it only specifies for Romance but they couldn't be more wrong. In a family, people exchange kisses. In friendship, kisses can be exchanged. In romance, kisses are exchanged. A daughter kissing her mother. A father kissing his son. A friend kissing their friend on the head. Two people who love each other romantically kiss passionately. Kisses can be given to everyone in every version of love."

A kiss... that sounded wonderful. So, everyone can give others kisses. Certainly not strangers, but people they loved. Ivan's eyes lightened at the thought, his childlike demeanor coming out once more. He wondered what a kiss was like... "Francis, we are friends, da?"

"Oui, of course we are friends Ivan!" Francis replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Can... Can I have a kiss?" The question came out shyly but curiously. The Russian wanted to know what a kiss was. It sounded lovely. The way Francis described it made him want to experience it for himself. At the question, Francis smiled and nodded.

"How could I refuse? Of course I will give you kiss." The Frenchman said softly. He leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on Ivan's forehead. Ivan closed his eyes as he felt Francis' lips press against him softly. A warm feeling erupted in his heart causing his cheeks to taint a light pink. Francis kept the kiss on for a few seconds before pulling away, a smile on his lips.

 _Kiss_

 _Three letters, One syllable_

 _A special way to show someone you love them. This person could be family, friend, or beloved. It is not limited to a specific type of love. When you press your lips against someone else and transfer some of your love to them. A kiss._

"That is a friendly kiss." Francis said, eyes locking on Ivan's violet ones. "There are different types of kisses, however. There is romantic kiss which are planted on people's lips. That's only given to-"

"Your beloved."

Francis' words were interrupted when a Brit entered the room. Arthur held a tray of tea cups in his hands, each one filled to the brim. He walked over and set them down on the small table before the couch. Ivan watched the man walk over and sit down right beside Francis.

"Yes, Angleterre, that is only given to your beloved. I see my lessons have been rubbing off on you."

Arthur scoffed and crossed his arms as a frown wiped over his face. "Shut up. I did not need to learn something as simple as that from you."

Ivan chuckled as he watched the two. They always did seem to be inseparable. Throughout the years they were always together. Whether it was fighting or talking or just arguing, they were both together. The Russian smiled at the sight of both them, just feeling utter joy from seeing them together.

"Francis," Ivan questioned into the silence that began to set, "do you love someone?"

The Frenchman smirked at this question and shot a knowing glance towards Arthur. At this, Arthur rolled his eyes and looked away. "Oui, I do love someone." Francis answered. It was as if something flickered in his eyes. The look in his eyes gave off a genuinely happy feeling that seemed to effect Ivan, making him smile. "I love a complete grump. I love a mean Brit who always seems to enjoy teasing me, which I exchange happily." This remark gave Francis an elbow to the ribs.

"Do you ever close that annoying mouth of yours?" Arthur grumbled, glaring at him. Francis snickered and playfully shoved him with his shoulder.

"Ah, but I know you love this 'annoying' mouth of mine. You kiss it every night." At this, Arthur returned the shove a bit more roughly causing Francis to fall to the side of the couch, laughing.

"Do you love Francis?" Ivan asked Arthur as Francis pushed himself back to how he was sitting before. At that question, Arthur raised a brow. It was odd of him to be asked such a question. Usually the Frenchman answered questions like that, not him.

"If I did not love him, then why do I entrust him with half of my heart?" Arthur said, cheeks burning a light crimson as he lifted his tea cup to take a sip. "I do love Francis, very much indeed. My love for him will go on until my heart ceases to beat. Nothing can stir the love I have with him. Even if the world begins to fall and will soon come to an end, I will remain by his side and make sure our hearts beat in unison to our last breathes. Each breath I breathe is to keep my heart alive so my love for him never runs out. Without him, my world would freeze. There would be no reason why it should keep turning if the one who I care for most is not here with me. So, to answer your question, I do love Francis. Very much."

"Angleterre..." Francis sat there, eyes wide and mouth agape. "You have such a way with words. You poetic, big browed petite merde. Je T'aime aussi!" He flung his arms around the Brit, smiling as if he had never heard Arthu say such loving words. Arthur stiffened at the hug, his face flushing a deep scarlet.

"Let go of me, you dramatic buffoon!" He exclaimed, secretly enjoying what was happening. "Unhand me this instance."

 _Lovers_

 _Six letters, Two syllables_

 _A term given to two people who love each other with all their hearts and wish to spend their lives with the other. Their love is forevermore and their hearts are forever entwined._

Ivan giggled behind his hand as he watched the two bicker as they usually did. It was true. Francis and Arthur certainly did love each other, romantically. Ivan saw it. He saw how much Francis beamed when he saw Arthur enter the room. He saw the look in his eyes when he questioned him about it. The Russian noticed the blush in Arthur's cheeks at the same question. The explanation about his love just topped it all. This was true love. This was it. And Ivan witnessed it before him as the two lovers shot insult after insult at each other, both not truly meaning any of it.

"At least I don't I pay a fortune on my hair! No wonder your banks are horrible."

"Eh?! Being fashionable is something that is highly looked upon! Obviously you do not know that. Your choppy hair can vouch for that. Along with your eyebro-"

"Will you quit bringing my bloody eyebrows into this?!"

"I try not to but it is like they just call to me! They are just asking to be teased on!"

"How dare you-"

Ivan broke the argument with a laugh. It wasn't a mean laugh nor was it to make fun of anyone. It was a happy laugh, one that was caused by the frog and sheep. Arthur stopped mid sentenced and looked over at Ivan with a perplexed look. Francis rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling awkwardly. He had almost forgotten Ivan was there.

"You two love each other very much, da?" Ivan said softly, grinning at the both of them. "I can see it. That is very nice to see." At this, Arthur felt his cheeks blush even more as, surprisingly, a smile came upon his lips. Francis chuckled and wrapped an arm around the Brit, holding him close. Ivan smiled at this sight and continued, "I hope one day I can find someone who I love and who loves me back so we can share what you two have."

"Ivan, you will find someone." Arthur spoke this time, the smile on his face softening. "I'm no know-it-all of all the goddamn things about love, but I do know that there is someone out there for you. Don't lose hope."

Ivan beamed at this reply and scratched his cheek awkwardly. He did have someone in mind... "Spasibo, Arthur. Spasibo, Francis. You both have been much help.. It really means a lot." Francis ran a hand through his blonde hair and laughed lightly.

"Anytime, mon ami. If you ever want any more words or advice on the topic of love, come to me." The Frenchman said, doing a dramatic bow. "I am at your service when it comes to things like this."

The Russian smiled at this, grateful to have someone he knew he could turn to when he doubted or wished to learn more about this precious word. Love.

"Again, thank you. You... You've made my heart warm today. That isn't something I feel often."

It wasn't. Not once had he ever felt his heart in such a way, let alone felt his heart at all. When he was younger, he often believed he didn't have a heart. Many people told him so, so it was only instinct that he believed what they said. It wasn't till Toris' encounter, the 'hang out' with Alfred, and the visit with Francis and Arthur that he felt the warmth of his heart. The beating of the centre of his life. It was truly a lovely feeling, one he knew he would treasure forever.

Who knew when he would feel this again.

 **Okay, sorry for the long wait. I was having writer's block (again) and busy getting ready for school.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this** _ **long**_ **chapter about love. It certainly was fun to write since I, like Francis, am very passionate on the subject of love and adore every second I am given to speak about it. :)**

 **Please leave your reviews/comments! I love to read them!**


	18. Rejection and Acception

Love certainly was something that intrigued Ivan.

Every person he went to showed him different ways of expressing it. With Toris, he learnt what a hug was. With Alfred, a high five and hanging out. With Francis and Arthur, a kiss and to witness true love in its act. It certainly was great to learn these things. It made him wonder what else was there for him to learn. There was still lots more to show and experience.

Next up, was none other than Yao. Ivan knew that when visiting Yao there would be some conflict or uneasiness between them. The last time they spoke was when he accidentally hit the Chinese man. That was a horrible way to leave off. So, of course, the Russian was somewhat nervous on visiting the man.

It didn't go quite well at first.

When Ivan tried to board a plane and enter China, he was unable to. It was as if Yao had banned any one from Russia, and Russia himself, from entering his country. That certainly made Ivan's stomach drop when he had to walk all the way back to his car. But, just like what Toris said, not everyone was going to forgive him. He knew that as a fact, but still, facts still can hurt.

The drive home was bittersweet. Ivan was quite happy with how his apologies with Alfred and Francis and Arthur had went, but the sinking feeling in his stomach from Yao's still settled in. He really did wish he had the chance to at least say 'I'm sorry' to Yao. That was all he wanted to do. Alas, that was not to be. Yao didn't want to have anything to do with the Russian and it didn't look like that was going to change.

Once home, the Russian looked about his quiet house. No Baltics. Ah, he almost forgot that they left. So, once again, he was alone. Alone in a massive house that could probably house every nation. The halls were long and silent. The walls bore no happy colour. The windows showed the vast land of white snow outside, nothing giving off any life. His house was, once again, empty.

Sighing, Ivan walked into his living room and sat down on his couch. The fireplace still inhabited burnt wood which hadn't been cleaned since the leave of his servants. But that didn't matter at the moment. Three out of the four people he apologised to forgave him. The other one didn't even bother to answer his request to visit. That certainly did hurt him, but he had to remember what Toris said. Not everyone was going to forgive him.

Lying down on the couch, Ivan stared up at the ceiling. Such a quiet house. No one was here anymore. The Baltics had left. He was, once again, alone. However, now it was different. The lonely silence that engulfed the house was not unsettling or depressing as it was before. It was almost as if Ivan was content with his atmosphere. Content with the feeling of solitude. How was that? Didn't this feeling always send him in an uncomfortable dismay?

The silence was broken when his phone began to ring. Groaning, the Russian stood back up and walked over to the hall phone to pick it up.

"Da?" Ivan answered simply, unsure who may be calling at this time.

"Ivan, aru. It's Yao." The Russian's breathing hitched as he heard the voice of the Chinese man on the phone. This was his chance, right? Now was the chance to apologise. The Russian nodded confidently and took the chance.

"Yao, I wanted to speak-"

"There's a world meeting tomorrow, aru. It's going to be in France." Yao cut Ivan short, his voice seemingly hard and unfriendly. It didn't even sound like Yao. Usually, he spoke gently and always had that knowing and wise tone with him, but now.. now none of that was evident in his voice. It was a tone he would use to speak with someone he held little to no respect to. "It's at 3pm. Don't be late, aru."

"Yao, wait I-"

"Goodbye."

With that, the line went dead.

Ivan stood there, the buzzing tone never ceasing as he remained where he was. Of course, Yao didn't wish to speak with him. That was okay. Really, it was. He had accepted the fact that not everyone was going to forgive him. He had kept that in the back of his mind ever since Toris told him back at the beginning. Seeing how everyone else had forgiven him, it was only predictable to see how Yao was going to be the odd one out.

Putting the phone back in its holder, the Russian walked back into the living room and peered outside. Fresh snow coated the window seal and blanketed the vast land of Siberia. All you could see was white with the occasional falling flakes of snow. His violet eyes blinked, gazing out at the land before him. His land. His country's land. It was so cold and isolated, just like himself. Every inch of the land seemed to cry out as if in need of warmth. Ivan sighed, causing his breath to fog up the already frosty glass window.

"A meeting tomorrow..." He mumbled, looking upwards at the sky. Ah, that's right. The first meeting after he made amends with his friends. This.. wasn't going to be so bad. He would actually have friends to talk to in this meeting. People to sit next to. People to smile at him and make small talk without shuddering. Ivan's lips tugged into a soft smile at the thought. How could he not be happy about the next day?

The snow clouds above parted its way, showering the snowy land with sunlight.

 **Author's Note:**

 **I'm sorry (again, wow) for the lack of updates. Life's been rough at the moment and my mind is just scattered and everything. But I managed to write one chapter today! Woo!**

 **Anyways, I'm sad to say that this fic is slowly coming to the end. I don't know exactly how many chapters are left, but all I know is that I see the ending in the near future. I already have begun to write it out.**

 **So, just a heads up :)**

 **Please leave your feedback in the comments/reviews! Thank you!**


	19. No Title

I sit at my desk, staring at the paper that just came through my fax machine.

A world meeting tomorrow? In France? This was the perfect time wasn't it? Everyone was going to be there, especially him. Yes, he was going to be there. The guy who I despise with a burning passion. What other time would I be able to do this with an audience already present? No, an audience wasn't essential to my plan but, well, it was a plus.

I walk away from my desk and peer out my windows, looking upwards at the sky. Clouds had begun to devour the light from the sun above, causing dark shadows to cluster across the land. Maybe this was all due to the reason of my thoughts and plan. Who knows. Whatever the case, I could care less about the weather right now. That held no meaning in comparison of the plan that was rolling through my head.

Yes, it was going to go perfect. I had it all planned out from the timing to the layout of the building and to records of who would arrive first and last. No one could get in my way. After looking and planning, I could clearly tell that I got this in the bag. No one, and I mean no one, will get in the way. I'm going to make sure of it.

What? You are wondering what I'm planning to do? And now you're wondering why I am speaking directly to the reader? It's simple. I have my reasons to hate that horrid nation. Plus, I don't think I need a reason to explain why I am speaking to the reader. Author gave me leeway into doing this. But worry not, I'll leave you alone without my chatter soon. I'm just here to inform you on my reasons for the plan I am about to do.

I hate him. Yes, I hate him. I'm sure you don't need me to explain who I am speaking about. Who else is hated, not only by me? You thought of him, right? Well, whoever you thought of, I am 86% sure that who popped into your head was correct. The reasons for my hatred could stretch across the Earth twice. Listing them would take too long and time like that is something I don't have. Besides, I'm pretty sure you don't wish to read those things either.

Are you wondering who I am?

How silly. No, no I will not reveal who I am yet. I'm sure some of you have your guesses on my identity. Am I a nation? Am I a male? Am I a female? Am I neither? Am I tall? Short? Blonde? Brunette? You can take your case but I sure as hell know I won't give out who I am right now. No, no. You'll have to wait and see.

Oh, and don't even try to attempt to figure me out by how I am speaking. How I am writing this all down. This is on a computer, yes? Therefore, I can make myself sound like anyone I want to. I may misdirect you to the wrong nation only to cover me up. I could make me sound like England or France or even America for all I care. So don't even try interpreting who I am by how I speak or write. Smart, I know. I'm very smart. So, don't waste your time trying to guess.

Ah, well, I'll leave it at this. I must pack up and get ready for my flight to France.

See you soon, Ivan.

 **Author's Note:**

 **Wow! An unexpected new chapter because of a deal I made! (You better tell me now. You know who you are)**

 **Besides, I needed to bring "them" up again because "they" are going to take place in the story soon.**

 **I hope I'm not making it obvious…**

 **Anyways,**

 **Please leave feedback in the comments/reviews! Thank you!**


	20. Smile

The next day, all the major nations set out to France for the World Meeting. Why the meeting was held was simply to discuss the economy and what they could do to try and improve. Of course, in these times of meetings nothing ever got done because of the constant bickering and arguing. Yet, they still manage to attempt to hold a meeting in hopes of getting something done. Why they did that and what motivated them to do so was beyond anyone's knowledge.

Ivan arrived at the place in which the meeting was held with fifteen minutes to spare. He was never the first to arrive and he was never the last to arrive. So, being there early but not explicitly early wasn't a surprise. It was normal for him and he didn't think much about it.

The Russian stopped at the front door of the building and looked up. This was going to be the first time he actually looked forward to going into one of these meetings. Yes, he had enjoyed them in the past, but now he was going to be able to enjoy it with someone. Now he wasn't going to be alone. He was going to have friends who are willing to speak with him and stay with him and sit with him. Wow. That thought of such things just warmed Ivan's heart.

"Yo, Ivan!" Ivan stopped midway into the front doors as a cheery American sprinted up to him.

"Privet, Alfred." The Russian greeted with a small wave of the hand. Alfred smiled up at the man and nodded his head into the building.

"Let's go! The quicker we get in there the faster it'll be over." The American let out an obnoxious laugh and began to skip slightly inside. "This meeting is cutting into my lunch time!"

Ivan watched Alfred laugh happily and slowly disappear down the hall. The American kept looking back and motioning for him to follow, beaming as he did so. That friendly smile. It was meant for him. A friend. That smile was only given to friends and seeing how it was flashed directly at him, Ivan couldn't help but smile even more.

"You better get going, or he'll never shut up." The voice of a grumpy Briton came up behind him and was soon followed by a nudge of the arm by a Frenchman. Ivan turned to see Francis and Arthur walking inside, side by side. Arthur wore his usual frown and was scoffing at Alfred's idiotic behavior (he could still be seen laughing to himself down the hall). Francis was smiling his usual sweet grin, trying to interlock his fingers with Arthur's hand.

"Are you coming, Ivan?" Francis questioned, managing to grasp Arthur's hand in which the Englishman reluctantly acknowledged. "We'll save you a seat beside us."

"We'll save you a seat between Alfred and I so he can stop bugging us." Arthur muttered under his breath, eyebrows furrowing. He didn't mean for it to sound insensitive or just him using Ivan, it was his way of being friendly. He just didn't show it that well. Ivan took note of that, picking out the attempted friendliness. It was nice to know he had a place at the table instead of just sitting and surveying.

"Okay! Spasibo." Ivan said, returning the smile. "I'm coming."

Francis nodded and began to make his way down the hall, hand swinging Arthur's slightly. Arthur muttered something bitterly over to Francis, yanking his hand out of his grip. That remark was followed by a flip of the hair and off the two went arguing once again. Ivan chuckled under his breath at the sight of the bickering couple. Why did the littlest things like this cause him to be so happy? He didn't know… All he knew was that this day was starting out great. This was a new day. A new day in which he would make amends and become a new person.

"Ivan!" The Russian's ears perked up yet again at the voice of another friend. He turned around to see Toris sprinting towards him with a happy smile. His brown hair was tied back neatly, making his bright smile more noticeable. "How are you doing?"

"I'm doing good." Ivan replied, his grin only increasing. The last time he spoke with Toris was when he left his house that day. So much had happened since then and so much had changed, all thanks to Toris. The Lithuanian spotted that in the Russian. He noticed his changed demeanor and whole uplifted spirit. That intimidating aura seemed to lack along with the chill on your spine. Ivan… was a new person.

"Well, let's get going, shall we?" Toris said, beginning to walk down the hall, following the footsteps of the Frenchman and Englishman. "The meeting is going to start in ten minutes."

"I'll be right there." Ivan called out to him as he watched the brunette gradually walk down the hall. Toris turned, smiled happily, then continued to walk down before he disappeared around the corner.

This was amazing. This feeling of being loved… being wanted by those around. He was greeted when he walked into the building. Not even when he walked in, Alfred had said 'hello' even before he stepped inside. In the past, he never was greeted by friends or people who actually took the time to exchange words to him. They all merely gave him weird looks and shrunk back when he walked by. No one ever had the guts or will to speak with him. But now… Now was different. Ivan liked this change.

Sighing contently, Ivan began to walk down the hall towards where the meeting was. It was about to start soon and everyone knew that Germany did not tolerate tardiness. Yes, even though France was the host country, Germany always took control of it. Why? Well… he was the only one who seemed to care if things got done. Plus, none of the others cared to take up the role or speak up about how it was always Germany's by default.

Yes, everything was great. Life was great. How come? All because of love. Who knew love could make such an impact on one's life? Ivan didn't understand how he could've lived this long without learning about this wonderful emotion and feeling. How he managed to survive every passing day was a miracle. Now, he awoke with the thought of love filling his mind, motivating him to get up and start the day. This was great… It really was. Everything was perfe—

"I should've done this earlier."

Ivan froze in mid step, his eyes widening. He couldn't move. Why? His violet eyes glanced down. He took sight of a tip of a blade protruding from his side as he felt the hilt of a blade shoved against his back. Crimson began to slowly spread about his coat, painting his side red.

"After all those times you ruined my life, I finally managed to repay the favor. This pain you feel; you made me feel like this every day. Every order you made me do. All those nights of fearing to bring down my defense. That pain. I want you to feel that now. Never again will you treat someone like shit. With you gone, the world will be so much better, wouldn't it?"

Ivan opened his mouth to say something but no words came out, only silence. A light laugh escaped who was speaking as he slowly took out the blade from the Russian. Ivan fell forward, grasping his side as blood spilt from his wound.

"Who-"

His words never left his mouth for he felt a foot collide with his face, causing him to fall to his side. His breathing hitched as a vivid memory flashed through his mind. The memory of his boss beating him. The feeling of constant rejection and let downs. No. This couldn't happen again. It was happening again, wasn't it? This horrid feeling of being bad. But.. was he bad?

Bam. Another kick to the side, but now it was his wounded side. Ivan let out a short scream, soon to be stifled as a fist crashing against his face.

"Don't scream. No one cares, remember? You're the hated country. No one likes you. All you do is cause pain and make everyone's lives a living hell. Who would ever like you? Honestly. You're a monster. Monsters don't deserve to be fawned over and loved. You're a hideous beast who's damned into solitude."

A laugh came from whoever was talking as Ivan felt himself being jerked up by his front. Before he could catch a glimpse at who this person was, they flung him against the wall, causing him to gasp. This was punishment all over again. He was good though. He'd been good for the past days. Why was he being punished now? What had he done now? Would he ever experience the feeling of rest and relief?

Before he knew it, Ivan felt a wave of punches and kick make contact with his body. He raised his hands over his head to shield himself but it was no help. The person had the advantage here, and the Russian felt his energy and breathing slowly deteriorate. It didn't take long before he was merely sobbing on the floor as unbearable pain filled him.

"P-Please stop! Stop-!" Ivan cried out desperately. Why was this happening? He was doing good! He was being nice! He was showing love! He learnt from his mistakes! Wasn't that the right thing to do? If so, why was he receiving punishment yet again?

"You're begging! You are actually begging! I never would've thought you would be the one begging and I would be the strong one. How pathetic. You're not so big and tough now, huh? Do you see now? This is how you make people feel! This is what makes people hate you! This is what draws people to abandon you and leave you."

Ivan gasped for air as he felt a pair of hands pull him up by his now blood splattered collar. Red liquid dripped down his face and forehead, making it hard to see.

"Leaving you was the biggest risk I took, but the best decision I made."

With that statement, Ivan knew exactly who was talking. Who was punishing him. Who this was. Attempting to see through his bruised eyes and dripping blood, he squinted up. Just barely, he could make out the blurry image of a man with blonde hair and black rimmed glasses. The smell of computer polish could faintly be smelt. It was him.

"E-Estonia."

 **Author's Note:**

 **Oh my, sorry if this was obvious. I was trying not to make it obvious but, of course, I never was one to be great at plot twists and surprise. Oh well XD**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

 **Please leave your feedback in the comments/reviews! I love to hear from you guys!**


	21. Pain Ends

"Yes, it's me. You're just now realizing this? After I've practically beat you to the point of human death? How pathetic. I hope now you realize how you've made _me_ feel."

Ivan coughed, weakly staring up at the hate filled Estonian. Why did his past always come back to punish him? No matter what, things would start getting better but only to be torn back down by his horrific past and actions. People made mistakes. It was a common thing, right? Then why was he always getting punished? Everyone made them and everyone around him seemed to never have to live with those scars, but him… those scars never fully heal. They always came back one way or another.

"I-I'm sorry." Ivan managed to gasp out through his labored breathes. Tears slid down his bloody cheeks as he stared up at Eduard. The look on his face resembled a child, a confused child unsure of what they did wrong. Ivan didn't know what he did wrong this time. He had apologized. He was nicer to people. He wasn't mean and cruel as he was before. That was good, right? Then why was this happening?

"Sorry? It's a little too late for that, _Mr. Russia_." Eduard spat, his grip on Ivan's front tightening. The Russian winced as he was jerked close to the Estonian's face. "Your apology is years too late. Years of your constant punishments and your constant harm. You… and all your ways of 'learning'. You and all your chores and work! All your intimidation! All that fear you caused me!" Ivan flinched at every statement that was shouted at him. Each one ringing against his ears. He wanted it all to stop.

"I- " Ivan was about to say something else but was cut short as he felt the ground suddenly crash against his side.

"What, aren't you going to punish me, Mr. Russia?" Eduard sneered, kicking Ivan sharply on his back. A cunning smile curled the edges of his lips as he looked over the whimpering Russian. This. This was what he wanted. He wanted to be the one over looking his tormentor; to be the dominant one. He wanted to be the one feared and have Ivan cower before him. That is what Eduard wanted. Was this a good thing of him to do? No. Did he think this was good; the right thing? Yes. Hmm, quite interesting, isn't it?

"Come on! I'm disobeying you!" Eduard said, a light laugh escaping his lips. Ivan yelped as another kick bruised his back once more. No reaction came from the Russian. All he did was curl up even more, praying for the kicks and hits to end. "Aren't you going to punish me?"

"N-Nyet…" Ivan choked, coughing out some blood. He stared down at the blood dripping onto the carpeted floor before him, violet eyes blinking in and out of focus.

Despite all of what Ivan did, he was still being hurt. This was no different than the day Eduard held that gun up to him. He was still greeted by pain and still haunted by his past actions. But, this time he knew what he was doing wrong. Now he was trying to fix his mistakes and make everything right. That was all going well, right? He apologized. He didn't hurt anymore. He was good. If he was doing what was right… why was this happening? It didn't make sense.

"Ha! You should see how weak you look!" Eduard exclaimed, his kicks being continuous now. "You look so pathetic! Do you feel this, Ivan? Do you feel what I'm doing? This is what you did to me! I'm merely returning the favor."

He couldn't take it. Ivan could already feel himself slipping into that death like state nations had. Everything was muffled and he could barely keep his vision focused. What would happen next? What now? When he regains consciousness again, will he awake to be hurt one more? The man didn't know. Anything could happen when you look at the circumstances- and when 'anything' is stated, it means anything bad.

Suddenly, Ivan felt the kicks stop. His body was left untouched. Was Eduard done? The Russian cracked open his eyes a bit, blurred movement happening about around where he lied. His mind was spinning and everything seemed surreal. Muffled voices were barely audible around him, no words being made clear to his ears.

Aching bones. Bruised skin. Dripping blood. Tear stained face. All of that was associated with the Russian. Countless years of this torment, countless times he had to go through this. Sometimes it was with his boss, sometimes it was with enemies, now it was with an old friend- or believed-to-be-a-friend-but-actually-was-not. Nonetheless, this always happened. It always did. That fact couldn't be emphasized enough for now, after this, Ivan had burnt that into his mind. Pain was eternal. It never went away. There was no escape from the past-

Suddenly, Ivan felt someone slide their hands underneath him, causing him to flinch. Was this Eduard? Was he back to hurt him even further? Ivan let out a shaky whimper as he felt the person haul him up from the ground.

"Sh, Ivan, it's okay." Ivan felt himself relax slightly as he realized who was touching him. Weak violet eyes wandered up to meet gentle blue ones that had soft blonde hair falling before them. Francis looked down at the wounded Russian, adjusting his hold he had on the man.

"F-Francis…" Ivan choked out, relieved tears falling down his cheeks. Francis smiled slightly to reassure the man before looking about around him. The Russian looked over as well, trying his best to steady his hazy vision.

Eduard was pinned down to the floor, held down by Alfred. Arthur and Toris were on the side trying to calm a distraught Latvian. They were all here. His friends. He wasn't alone. Before when something like this happened, he would be left in solitude. But now, now there was someone here to save him. Someone here to aid him. He wasn't alone.

"Someone help me get Ivan out of here!" Francis exclaimed to the others. More nations began to file out of the meeting room upon hearing the ruckus outside. "He needs to be aided to!"

Ivan felt his eyes grow heavy and the energy being drained from his body. They were actually going to help him. He wasn't alone. Maybe there was an end to all this pain…

"I got it. Bring him to car, aru. I have lots room in there due to catering food." A voice responded to Francis' exclamation, making Ivan's head turn. He looked over to see Yao standing before them, eyebrows furrowed. The Chinese man returned the Russian's gaze. There was a certain look to his eyes that gave off a certain feel. Forgiveness? Even? Okay? Something that reassured Ivan that things with Yao were okay now. It all was okay now.

"Oui, okay. Angleterre! You drive." Francis began to briskly walk towards the entrance of the building with some of the others behind him. Ivan rested his head against the Frenchman's chest, barely hanging onto consciousness. This feeling. Francis holding him close in his arms. Yao suggesting and helping into getting him to safety. Alfred taking down the man who did this to him. This overall feeling to all of this. Was this… Did this mean… everything was okay now?

Before any more thoughts could pass through his head, Ivan felt the world around him sway one more time before he felt himself slip down into darkness.

"Hang on, Ivan. You're going to be okay."

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hey! I am very very very sorry for the late update. Things happened in my personal life and I haven't had time nor energy to write. But! I'm back now. So, here's the second to last chapter of this fanfic. Yes, the next chapter will be the last**

 **Anyways, sorry if this was crappy. I was just trying my best to get something out there, haha.**

 **Please leave me your feedback in the comments/reviews! I love to hear them!**


	22. Mending

Ivan always had a soft spot for snow. He had a love and hate relationship with it. Of course, he loved the warmth and sun a lot more than snow, but that didn't mean he completely hated it. No, he loved the fluffy flakes that littered the ground. Those flakes that piled into soft piles of chilly ice. The Russian loved that quite a bit. It was significant to him in his life and stuck with him for as long as he could remember. When he was first born as a nation, he awoke on a tree stump in the middle of a white wonderland. When his numerous leaders came and went, he fled and wept to the snow as it comforted him by freezing his tear streaks on his cheeks. When the USSR fell, he collapsed into the snow in defeat and curled up into its freezing embrace. The snow had always been there for him. It was the only thing Ivan could count on.

 _Hey, Ivan._

Ivan felt something in him flicker. Darkness surrounded him and nothing could be heard. Where was he? Who was that calling him? What was going on? What happened?

 _How are you doing, big guy?_

Who are you? The voice didn't answer.

 _You've come so far, da? Don't you remember when you used to hide out in the trees when boss came to speak with you? Do you remember when sister would chase you into your room till you cried? Do you remember when the Union fell and everyone left?_

Ivan felt something warm slide down his cheeks, which he now started to feel, in droplets. Yes, he remembered all those horrible things. Before he could question as to why those were being brought up, the voice continued.

 _You've come so far since then. When the Union fell, you were a mess. A complete mess! No friends, no family, no nothing. But, is that how you are now?_

At the end of the Union, that's when Ivan really did breakdown. With the loss of his companions and family, he had been alone- completely alone. No one wished to aid and be with him then. But, that wasn't so now, right?

 _No, it isn't. Look at yourself now. Look at everyone who has forgiven and befriended you. Alfred. Toris. Francis. Arthur. Yao. All those who once turned their backs now face you again, but not as enemies. But as friends._

This was true. It was all true. However, Ivan was weary on accepting that truth.

 _Stop holding onto the past, Ivan. That isn't you anymore. Your past does not define your present. You're a new person. A new nation, da? Maybe not physically new, but you certainly are mentally. Turn your focus from the past and focus on what's happening in front of you._

Voice, real voices, were beginning to surround him in a muffled tone. However they were too distant for Ivan to make out.

 _You must go now. Your friends are waiting for you. Don't worry, your future is bright. Pain shan't come easily to you now. You're going to be okay._

...

[ Ivan's Point of View ]

The first thing I heard was laughter. Not an abundance of it, but just a little chuckle. That was an odd thing to hear. Hearing that made it clear I was in a place unknown; I've never been here. No where I would be would have laughter. That human sound was nonexistent in the places I know.

"Will you stop eating his food? The nurse left it there for _him_ , not for you!"

"Fuck off, will you? He ain't awake is he?"

Voices. They were distant but I could still barely make out the words. Eating food? Am I sleeping in a kitchen? Wait, did someone say nurse? Hm... Where am I?

"Be quiet, aru. They come back here and tell you to be quiet."

Yao. That was Yao's voice. I recognize his way of speaking. Confusion floods through me as I attempt to guess at where I am at. Why can't I open my eyes? It's as if someone is forcing them shut. I don't have any energy to open them on my own. But, I want to know where I am at. Curiosity always got the better of me anyways.

Very slowly and taking the most I could, I cracked my eyes opened ever so slightly. A blindingly white light immediately took up my vision, making it impossible. Sound around me began to clear up as more words came to my ears.

"Wait! I think he is waking up! Sere? Mr. Russia?" The gentle voice of Toris.

I open my eyes a bit more as my violet orbs carefully scan the room. Blonde hair, many heads of blonde hair, come to view along with brunette. Green eyes are the first pair I see. It's Toris's eyes. Oh, how happy I am to see those eyes. My dear friend Toris. He's smiling at me when our gaze locks.

"Ivan!" My eyes break away from Toris and take in Alfred's bright blue ones. The American's signature smile spreads across his lips as our eyes meet. Oh, I never knew I would actually be joyed to see him, but here I am. Arthur, Francis, and Yao come into view as well; all of them are smiling just like the other two. Why are they smiling? Are they smiling at me?

"Fra-" I made an attempt to speak but was stifled when I heard the hoarseness of my voice. My chest hurt from that simple attempt. Francis made his way towards me sat down in a seat next to me. That's when I realized where I was. The white walls showed clear now and the faint, steady beeping tapped against my ears. A light blanket reached up to my chest as something was wrapped around my head. This was a hospital room. That was obvious now. But... why?

Francis reached a hand over gently brushed some loose hair out of my eyes as a little sigh escaped his lips. "You scared us, mon ami. We were all worried about you. We're glad to see you're doing alright."

Worried about me? Really? I've never had anyone worry about me. And, they're glad for my well being?

"Psh, yeah! Man, you should've seen Eduard after I got a piece of him!" The American clenched a fist as a smirk tugged at his lips. "Ain't nobody beatin' up one of my friends on my watch. I was all John Cena on that piece of shit!" He began to shout an obnoxious fighting before Arthur slapped a hand across his mouth.

"Will you shut your bloody mouth? No one wants to hear your damn internet trends!" The Briton muttered, shooting a glare towards Alfred. Alfred let out an exasperated breath as he shoved Arthur's hand away.

"They are called 'memes', you old man. Besides, it's like you Brits to disapprove of American fun."

I feel my lips tremble into a little smile as I listened to an argument begin. Oh, those two always were so easy to anger when they're against each other.

Wait, something was different here. I'm... I'm actually involved in this. I'm involved in the whole situation. The argument isn't just happening and I'm a bystander. I am actually in the situation. This is odd. There's people around me smiling and treating me kind just like...

"Friends." The word came out verbally rather than mentally, making Arthur and Alfred turn towards my direction. Everyone was looking by now. All eyes on me, waiting for my next words. Another unfamiliar thing. "You... you are all my friends."

Toris chuckled and nodded, walking up to the other side of my bed. "Of course we are, Ivan. We are all your friends, right?" They all nod. "Heh, you are our friend and we are yours. That's how friendship works."

So, it was true... they were my friends. Real friends. Friends.

 _Friends_

 _One syllable_

 _A person or people who you can place your trust in and always count on. People who will never let you down and will forever be by your side and love you._

I never actually thought this would happen- me having friends that is. Going back years to when I was only a young nation, the thought of being surrounded by people who I loved and loved me back seemed surreal. Being able to call people friends and actually depend on them seemed like a dream to never come true. However, it did. My dream did come true. My childish dream has come true. A dream, one of my dreams, came true. I can't seem to wrap that around my mind.

Tears began to unexpectedly well up in my eyes as the voice that I heard moments ago appear in my mind again.

 _You're not alone. You're loved. You have friends. Ivan, you're not the person you were before. This... This is evidence. This is proof. They love you._

"Ivan?" Alfred's voice silenced the voice in my mind. Tears had begun to wet my cheeks unexpectedly, making everyone's faces portray concern. "Are you okay? What hurts? Do you want me to get the nurse?"

"I love you." The words slip through my mouth before I could think over it. How odd. Those words left a tingling feeling in my mouth for it was the first time I had every uttered them. "I love you... I love you all... I-I love you..."

Those three words. It was amazing how powerful three simple words could be. Those words were unknown to my knowledge for as long as I lived before Toris had taught me what it was. Before that day, that day Toris aided me, I had no idea what love was. I never had the slightest clue of what it was or what its full potential was. Of course, never have I ever imagined I'd ever experience such a beautiful thing. That never crossed my mind. But, here I am, speaking those three words with the most genuine voice I could muster to portray I truly mean what I say.

"We love you too, Ivan." Francis replied, his own eyes beginning to tear up as if he was moved by my words. "We all love you. You're a dear friend of ours and have a special place in our hearts. You mean a lot to us, non?" Everyone nodded around me.

"Hell yeah, dude! I love you, homie." Alfred snickered.

"I appreciate your being, which is my way of saying I love you as well, Ivan." Arthur grinned slightly.

"My heart may be old but it not too old to not love you, aru. You are dear friend to me." Yao sighed sweetly.

"See, Sere? I told you you will be loved." Toris spoke up, a warm smile placed on his lips. "It took time, but it happened. You have friends around you. You aren't the 'bad guy' nor are you the enemy. We wouldn't love an enemy. We love you, a dear and precious friend. Ivan... you did it. You've made friends. You've surpassed your past. You've found love."

I blink, eyes gazing from him to the others. Toris was smiling and so were the others. Those smiles upon their faces were true and the complete opposite of lies.

"I... I did make it. I can love." I felt my voice crack against how happy I was to say that; to actually know what I am saying is true.

This may have been a tough journey, but of course, every journey has an end. Every end is a happy ending, because if it's not then it's not the end, da?

 _I love you_

 **Author's Note:**

 **Oh my, I finished my first fanfic. Woo. I hope the ending is okay!**

 **I just wanted to thank everyone who read and reviewed my stories. Honestly, reading each and every one of your comments and thoughts make me immensely happy. You all are so kind and I never knew how much this story could impact someone. Really, I just wrote this out of nowhere and continued updating as a hobby but never had I expected it to grow this big. Thank you for reading and thank you for your feedback. I love each and every one of you.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this story overall.**

 **I do have a zombie apocalypse story going on at the moment and plan on writing a FrUk one soon :) [ if anyone is interested hehe ]**

 **Please leave your feedback in the comments/reviews!**


	23. Epilogue

Months after the event before the world meeting, Ivan grew closer with the other nations than he ever dreamt he would. The day where he could call someone and go outside and hangout with another person actually came. Even after months Ivan found it unbelievable. He doubted he'd ever get over the fact that all of this is true now.

Well, that was how he was over the next months. However, even in this story, there are different sides.

Right after the whole incident, Eduard was taken into custody. He was brought back to Estonia and to his country's capital. There he was spoken to directly from his boss and, well, expectedly, was punished for his actions. His punishment for his whole vile plan was to be imprisoned within his country's borders for a year. A year was nothing for nations so his boss thought that was a reasonable punishment.

"I was doing the right thing!" The Estonian protested once he heard the decision on his punishment. The answer he received in return was a mere shake of the head. Nations were always overpowered by their boss. That was a given. So, he had to agree reluctantly and obey his new orders: stay within the borders of Estonia.

The first month, Eduard was still fuelled with hatred and revenge. An attempt to escape his country was even made which earned him another six months. However, that didn't heed his wish for the revenge he so longed for. Making Ivan pay for all he did was the only clear objective in his mind. That didn't cease from his mind nor was he going to forget about it on his own. However, external forces did have a different effect than internal ones.

"Eh, Mr. Eduard? I have a letter for you." A male official, who his boss assigned to him to make sure he didn't sneak out again, came up to the short haired nation with a tatted envelope.

"From who?" Eduard asked a bit shortly. He expected it to be one of the other nations present at the meeting to tease and scold him for what he tried to do. It wouldn't be the first. Arthur had sent him a very packed and worded letter on he should think back at his actions.

"It came with no name." The man replied, putting the envelope down on a nearby table. With that, he left. Conversation wasn't a common thing with Eduard and his current mindset.

Sighing a bit irritated, he walked over to the table and picked up the envelope. It's corners were already yellowing as if it was a letter sent from the past. The writing on it was a bit sloppy and childish. A bit curious, Eduard tore it open. His eyes widened as they fell across the contents inside. It was a letter from...

 _Dear friend Estonia,_

 _I know you're not expecting to receive anything from me. If you were, you were probably expecting something bad. But, this letter is nothing bad. It is pure good._

 _I am writing this on behalf of what happened the last time we came in contact with each other. You wanted to hurt me just like how I did to you in the past. I know, I understand your desire for to hurt those who've done you wrong. Believe me, I know. However, there's something I learnt recently that I think you may have forgotten or, like me, haven't learnt at all._

 _Hurting those who hurt you will solve nothing. It will give you temporary pleasure but it won't last long. Hurting is never the answer. Focusing on the past and making present actions based on past events will get you no where. Letting go of all of that will though. Stop living in the past. Move on and fave the present. Learn to love._

 _It is a very nice thing. Love makes your chest feel warm and draws people to you. It guarantees you happiness if it is used correctly. When you were there at the meeting, I can tell you didn't have love. Maybe, love is what you need right now, friend Estonia. It certainly changed who I am. You know me, so, if love can change me this much into who I am now, it can certainly do wonders with you!_

 _I don't know if I managed to say it properly back there, but I meant what I said at the meeting. I am very sorry for how I treated you. It was not right for me to do so. If I could take it all back, I would. If only I had learnt what love is before than this whole fiasco wouldn't of happened. My actions were not true and nor would they ever be._

 _But, Friend Estonia, you went to hurt me because you know what I did was wrong. You wanted to show me how much my actions hurt you. And, you did show me. However, I don't think you realise what happened. The full extent of what happened._

 _You became me. You tried to prove me wrong only by turning into me. Turning into the monster I was. You're just as a monster as I was back then. Your plan only backfired._

 _However, I do not hate you for who you are and what you did. I don't have any room in my heart to hate, only love. That is what Francis taught me. So, I forgive you for what you did to me. I forgive you for what you said. You are still considered my friend and whether you think of me the same way is solely up to you._

 _Your punishment is still active as you read this, but know that once you've been freed, I invite you over for a drink. Hopefully you'll be let out during the summer when it's at least a little bit warm!_

 _I hope you are doing well, friend._

 _Sincerely,_  
 _Ivan B._

 _P.S. This letter was edited and revised by Arthur Kirkland because of poor English and grammar._

Eduard blinked. Slowly, he folded up the letter and slipped it back into the envelope without another word.

 **The End.**

 **_**  
 **Author's Note:**

 **There is a reason I cut it off right there. I want the reader's reaction (yes, you) to be Eduard's reaction. So, however you reacted or wish him to react is how he reacts. It's up to the reader in the end! How fun is that? Haha.**

 **Anyways, this officially marks the end of the fic and I'm sad it had to end. Ah, but just know that I have more in the making. Mostly centred around the FACE family : )**  
 **If you haven't yet, please check out my other ongoing Hetalia fanfic, "This Is Where We Fall".**

 **Please leave your feedback in the reviews/comments! I love to read them!**


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